EDWARD CULLEN - SUBMISSIVE TO DOMINANT - A JOURNEY
by kitties1ffn
Summary: WE'RE BACK... DESPITE THINKING THAT WE WERE DONE BECAUSE MY MUSE HAD PACKED IT'S BAG AND HEADED FOR THE COAST, WE'RE BACK FOR A WEE BIT MORE! Edward, Carlisle, Katy, Riley, Jacinta, Jacob and of course Bella, are back for a wee bit more. Now remember, this story is NOT for the faint of heart so if you are of a weak and sensitive disposition, wander away... PLEASE!
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

**SORRY THIS ISNT A CHAPTER. IT'T JUST AN ANNOUNCEMENT**

**EDWARD CULLEN SUBMISSIVE TO DOMINANT, A SEXUAL JOURNEY …**

**THIS WAS POSTED PREVIOUSLY AND I HAD NO INTENTION OF CONTINUING IT DUE TO LACK OF INTEREST, BUT EDWARD WON'T SHUT THE HELL UP SO HERE WE GO AGAIN!**

**I DON'T EXPECT ANY OF YOU TO READ AND REVIEW THE FIRST SIX CHAPPIES BUT CONTINUE FROM SEVEN PLEASE!**

**HUGS AND WE ARE BACK!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**THIS IS **_**NOT**_** A STORY FOR ANYONE WHO IS SHY AND RETIRING SO PLEASE BE WARNED.**_

**OKAY?**

**I'VE WANTED TO WRITE EDWARD'S POINT OF VIEW EVER SINCE I BEGAN ****ISABELLA SWAN, SUBMISSIVE****, PURELY BECAUSE I'VE WANTED TO GET INSIDE OF HIS HEAD TO SEE HIS REACTIONS TO HER INABILITY TO SUBMIT FULLY AND HER INTERNAL VOICES AND HOW HE REALLY PERCEIVES HER CONVERSATIONS WITH HERSELF!**

**EDWARD IS A FASCINATING CHARACTER TO ME, ESPECIALLY BECAUSE HE IS A STRONG, POWERFUL DOMINANT WITH THE FACE OF THE BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT MR P.**

**PLEASE BE KIND.**

**A LOT OF 'ME' IS POURED INTO THIS, ESPECIALLY INTO THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS AND IT FEELS VERY ODD TO BE STRIPPING MYSELF ALMOST NAKED FOR YOUR PERUSAL AND CRITIQUE.**

**FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T KNOW ME, LET ME EXPLAIN A COUPLE OF THINGS ABOUT ME AND MY STYLE OF WRITING.**

**I WRITE MY AUTHOR'S NOTES IN EMBOLDENED CAPITALS THAT ARE ALSO FREQUENTLY UNDERLINED. **

**ALWAYS HAVE. **

**ALWAYS WILL. **

**I'M NOT SHOUTING AT YOU, I PROMISE – IT'S JUST MY WAY. **

**MY STORIES ARE LONG, DESCRIPTIVE, TERRIBLY ENGLISH AND VERBOSE; IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, PLEASE CLICK THE X IN THE CORNER AND TODDLE 'OFF' NOW!**

**MY STORIES ARE SET IN LONDON AND BELLA AND EDWARD, AND INDEED THE VAST MAJORITY OF OTHER CHARACTERS, ARE ENGLISH, SO THE ENTIRE STORY HAS ENGLISH SPELLINGS AND ENGLISHISMS WHICH MAY OR MAY NOT BE A LITTLE STRANGE TO READERS FROM OTHER PARTS OF THE WORLD.**

**IF YOU'RE UNDER 18, OR ARE OF A SENSITIVE DISPOSITION, WALK AWAY. THIS STORY IS FOR ADULTS WHO ARE OPEN MINDED AND SERIOUSLY NON-JUDGEMENTAL AS IT CONTAINS STRONG SEXUAL CONTENT – SLASH, HETEROSEXUAL, VANILLA AS WELL AS BDSM - AND THERE ARE PASSING REFERENCES TO DRUGS, ALCOHOL AND MENSTRUATION, AS WELL AS SLIGHTLY UNDERAGE SEX. IF THEY AREN'T YOUR BAG, BABY, CLICK TO ANOTHER PAGE!**

**PLEASE REMEMBER**** THAT THE AGE OF CONSENT FOR FULL SEX, BOTH HETEROSEXUAL AND HOMOSEXUAL, IS SIXTEEN, IN THE UNITED KINGDOM. MOST TEENAGE BOYS, AND MANY GIRLS, EXPERIMENT LONG BEFORE THAT SO THINK BACK TO YOUR OWN EARLY FUMBLINGS WHEN READING THIS AND PLEASE DON'T JUDGE TOO HARSHLY!**

**EVERYTHING IN THIS STORY IS EITHER INITIATED BY EDWARD OR IS INDULGED IN TOTALLY WITH HIS CONSENT.**

**I DON'T OWN TWILIGHT, THE LOVELY, FOLLICALLY LUSTROUS AND SMILINGLY HAPPY MRS S MEYER DOES. I DO, HOWEVER, OWN A RATHER CHATTER-FILLED BRAIN AND A BASE LEVEL OF HUMOUR. **

**I HAVE TO BE COMPLETELY HONEST, IT FEELS TERRIBLY ODD TO BE 'GOING IT ALONE' IN THIS STORY, THE GIRLS, DOGS, TENT ET AL, ARE MISSING, AS ARE GEORGE, TERRY, ISABELLA, THE CATS AND MRS C FOR THE FIRST CHAPTERS AT LEAST! **

**EEEEK!**

**THE ENTIRE STORY IS DEDICATED TO THE OLD BALL AND CHAIN OF A FACEBOOK WIFEY, KATY DAZZLEDBYTHE CULLENS, LOVE YOU MISSY, FROM DAY ONE, YOU MADE ME HAPPY. ADORE YOU. **

**ALSO, JUST TO LET YOU KNOW THAT IN THE FUTURE, ALL OF THE PROXY'S AND HARPIES WILL APPEAR IN SOME GUISE, AND HAVE BEEN SNEAKED INTO A CHAPTER OR TWO, BUT WILL BE KNOWN BY THEIR REAL NAMES, WHETHER I WAS MEANT TO OR NOT! **

**MWAH.**

…**..ooOoo….**

**I MIGHT JUST BE A WEE BIT TERRIFIED AND STANDING NAKED, AND OPEN (!) IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIELD SO BE KIND TO ME!**

**PLEASE REMEMBER ONE THING – I'M JUST A GIRL WHO CAN'T SAY NO TO ANYTHING REGARDING THE LUSCIOUS MR PATTINSON, OTHERWISE KNOWS AS MY PRESH!**

**THIS STORY WILL BE UPDATED AS AND WHEN, THERE IS NO SET TIMESCALE AND WON'T BE A FORTNIGHTLY THING. IT MIGHT BE EVERY FOUR WEEKS OR EVERY SIX WEEKS, IT WILL BE WHEN I CAN FIND THE TIME TO DO IT, BECAUSE TO SWAP BACKWARDS AND FORWARDS TO THEIR POINTS OF VIEW KILLS ME MENTALLY AND I LOSE MY MOJO FOR WEEKS! IT IS, IN MANY WAYS, EASIER WRITING FROM HIS POINT OF VIEW – STRANGE, BUT TRUE – BUT TO CLICK BACK TO HER INSANITY IS REALLY DIFFICULT!**

**EDWARD CULLEN: SUBMISSIVE TO DOMINANT – A SEXUAL JOURNEY**

**DON'T LOOK BACK IN ANGER**

**CHAPTER TWO**

_**Slip inside the eye of your mind  
Don't you know you might find  
A better place to play  
You said that you'd never been  
But all the things that you've seen  
Will slowly fade away**_

So I start a revolution from my bed  
'Cause you said the brains I had went to my head  
Step outside, summertime's in bloom  
Stand up beside the fireplace  
Take that look from off your face  
'cause You ain't ever gonna burn my heart out

And so Sally can wait, she knows it's too late as we're walking on by  
Her soul slides away, but don't look back in anger  
I heard you say

Take me to the place where you go  
Where nobody knows, if it's night or day.  
Please don't put your life in the hands Of a Rock 'n Roll band and throw it all away going to start the revolution from your bed 'Cause you said the brains I had went to your head Step outside the summertime's in bloom Stand up beside the fireplace Take that look from off your face You am not ever going to burn my heart out And So Sally can wait, she knows it's too late as we're walking on by.  
Her soul slides away, but don't look back in anger I heard you say And So Sally can wait, she knows it's too late as we're walking on by Her soul slides away, but don't look back in anger I heard you say So Sally can wait, she knows it's too late and we're walking on by Her soul slides away, but don't look back in anger, don't look back in anger I heard you say It's not today."

**WRITTEN AND SUNG BY THE AMAZING MANCUNIAN BAND, OASIS**

…**ooOoo…**

Looking in the mirror, I sigh loudly and shake my head as I drag both my fingers and a comb through the bright, shiny strands of my hair. Scowling at the way that it fucking gleams in the afternoon sun that slants through my bedroom window, I hiss out in rage as I chuck the useless plastic comb across the room in disgust.

Some people have referred to it as the colour of 'spun gold' – That analogy is something that makes me blanch to be honest, because it's more like the fucking straw that Rumplestiltskin spun into silk to save the princess in the children's fable.

Sigh.

Even my sodding hair seems to taunt me.

Shit.

"_Ooooh, Edward… it's so pretty… it's just like coppery sunlight _…_ it looks like gold… it's the colour of honey … it looks so soft… can I touch it?"—_That's the regular dull and boring bollocks that usually gets spewed out when people see my hair.

Sigh.

Grabbing two handfuls firmly, I try one more time, and fail, as ever, to tug, yank and control the insane mop of hair that sits on top of my head as it still fucking resolutely refuses to be tamed.

Exhaling loudly, I shrug my shoulders in resignation, and, walking across the room, I bend down and pick up and place the comb back on the chest of drawers with slightly shaking fingers, I take in a nervous breath and stare at my reflection once more.

Closing my eyes, I attempt to calm myself by breathing in and out slowly, before I look at my image once again, shaking my head this time.

How in the name of fuck had I got myself involved in this shit in the first place?

He'd said, specifically, that I had to be precisely, and perfectly, groomed as per his very exacting instructions, and, looking at my hair again, it would seem that I've failed that specific requirement before I've even left my bedroom.

Sigh.

I'm expected to look as if I've made a real effort with my appearance for our first evening together, not as though I've had my fingers in a light socket…

Empty, emotionless vivid green orbs stare back at me, and once again, I tug my hair, as I always do when I feel uncomfortable in any way, shape or form.

Most of my life I've been an empty, almost hollow vessel and tonight is going to be no different, I should imagine.

But, surely, this is what I've sought?

Isn't it?

Sex without emotion.

Fucking without feeling.

Orgasms without consequence.

Isn't that what I signed up for?

Shrugging in response to my own questions, I pat the sticky out bits of my hair futilely before I run a finger along my smooth jaw, checking that I had at least managed to follow that particular order, and that I did as I had been instructed and had had all facial and genital hair completely removed.

What the hell does he need me to be like that for?

Oh well.

As long as I get to cum, I don't really care about anything, or anyone, else to be honest.

I'm a typical horny teenage male, I guess, and as long as I get to fuck and be fucked, any hole will do.

Quite early on, I had discovered that only at the very point of orgasm do I ever _truly_ feel alive. Only then, does my heart swell and fill with some semblance of emotion, so I'm willing to try anything in order to achieve that euphoria, however brief it may be, and I'm totally selfish about reaching it, however I get it, and whatever the consequences.

Sadly it's getting harder and harder for me to reach the mind blowing high that typically comes with first experiences, and that feeling of unfettered and unbridled Nirvana, hence the need to push my boundaries ever further.

Fuck only knows what they plan on doing to me.

After the one and only time that I had seen them in action, I'm pretty sure that anything goes!

When I had eventually plucked up the courage to ask him of his plans for me, he'd chuckled and had told me in no uncertain terms that I might just get punished if I asked anything of him, again.

Of course, I had stuck to that request, and hadn't asked him anything again, however tempted I had been because I knew it was pointless as he had no intention of telling me anyway.

Added to that, part of me already knows that anticipation, expectation and excitement will build by not knowing and that this is part of the allure of this particular lifestyle, so I decided to just go with it.

I have absolutely no idea what to expect, other than that I will be royally, and possibly repeatedly fucked, but I guess I'll pretty much be required to sit down, shut up, be quiet and just do as I'm told to.

That's fine by me, I want to learn, not to teach, and from what I heard from conversations with Alice and some of her shiny new friends in '_the community,'_ these two are pretty much the best that money just simply cannot buy.

They chose me, I didn't choose them.

So at least they must think that I have some sort of promise?

Mustn't they?

He said I was just what they were looking for and that I had made him lose control in ways that no-one had managed to do to him in many years.

Good to know…

My excited - and slightly nervous - eyes scan the list of limits and requirements that I've picked up from the dresser once again, and I mentally check and tick off what I have and haven't done.

The small, precise, black inked tick beside every numbered item shows that I seem to have everything under control, other than my fucking hair, and smiling to myself; I fold the list up and put it inside my dresser drawer for safekeeping and future reference.

Before I'd met them, I'd thought that I was sexually adventurous, experienced and was feeling more than a little bit jaded, despite my young age.

That was, of course, until the package of documents regarding our respective physical and sexual histories, needs, wants and essentials, had been delivered to me by private courier four weeks ago.

My cock had been ram rod hard for four fucking weeks at the details of what they had already experienced and wanted to know what I had done and what I would be willing to try too.

Shit, their lists make me seem like such a little boy and at that point in time, for the first time in as long as I can remember; I felt strangely naïve and innocent, as I read them over.

Despite having sex with more people than I can remember, especially in the six weeks before we met, they made me felt like a fucking virgin.

How weird is that?

After everything that I've done in the past few years, how on earth could I feel like that?

How?

It's a feeling that I don't particularly enjoy, almost like being vulnerable and weak, and is one that I'd truly never expected, or wanted, to feel ever again.

Looking at my reflection once more, I sigh deeply and scrape my nails against my scalp once more.

Tonight needs to be perfect.

It has to be.

I've invested weeks and weeks of preparation and research for my first foray into this world, and I simply refuse to even contemplate the possibility of failing either them or me.

Refuse.

Failure is not a word that exists in my vocabulary, and it never has, and I point blank refuse to be less than one hundred percent committed to what I've agreed to do.

Squaring my shoulders firmly, I raise my chin defiantly as I take a deep, cleansing breath and exhale as I once again give myself a visual once over in the elegant, but simple, bevelled mirror.

They've given me my orders and instructions and I've been told precisely what I should look like, and therefore, I need to take control of every aspect of my appearance.

My "lovely" eyes are to be unhindered, because they want to watch the expressions in them during the entire evening, so, against my better wishes, my hair has had to be trimmed.

As usual, the whole, "You have the most beautiful eyes," blah de blah de blah, "You have the loveliest hair," yak, yak, yaketty yak, "Fuck, just exactly how big is your cock? Let me get my tape measure…" spiel was spouted, and sighing at the memory, I nervously run my fingers through my oddly coloured, uncontrollable hair, once again.

The irony of the fact that I spent the entirety of yesterday evening in a fucking beauty salon, no less, having my body prepared for their delectation and use, is not lost on me.

This hair can be controlled better than the hair on my head.

He had very kindly, and generously, booked me an appointment for treatments in Harrods' elegant spa and salon to have my chest, back, balls and arse crack waxed in preparation for what's about to happen.

Sigh.

The female receptionist seemed more than a little bit taken with me when I told her who I was, and excitedly shimmied out from behind her desk as she explained that she liked to take care of Dr Hale's guests personally.

When I asked her how many guests Dr Hale had sent here, she blushed and said that part of their professional ethos was confidentiality at all times.

Oh well.

She hung onto my arm more than a little too tightly as she led me to my treatment room.

Once there, she instructed me to strip naked and to dress in the white, cotton towelling robe that was on a hanger in the locker where I was to deposit my jeans, t-shirt, underwear and shoes.

The two assistants, both in their mid-thirties I would guess, who entered the aforementioned room five minutes after me, stopped dead in their tracks before they began to giggle excitedly as they pushed their way through the door. They were visibly salivating as they helped me out of the white, fluffy robe.

They stared at my naked form for a good couple of minutes before they instructed me where and how they 'wanted' me to lie down in readiness for my therapies.

I had propped myself up on my elbows and watched them closely as they wiped my lightly tanned skin down with a diluted surgical spirit solution to remove any oil from my body.

"You have lovely skin…" the blonde therapist said as she stroked down her tightly fitted black uniform, "Not so much as a spot… or a blemish…" she said, sounding wistful.

They were both slightly flushed and sweating as they waxed my upper body quickly, and efficiently. They commented on, and touched, the various deep coloured moles that dot my back and neck as they did so.

I wasn't sure that that was part of their usual procedure to be honest…

After they had covered several inches of my chest with wax, they pressed down on the material and I hissed loudly as they ripped the gauze strips from my body.

It fucking burned and stung like a bitch, but strangely enough, I found that my breathing had hitched as the pain turned into a warm, aching pleasure.

Shit.

Submissive or what?

The waxing of my chest took forever, and wasn't helped by the fact that they both spent an inordinate amount of time smoothing my skin gently both before and afterwards, but when they finally helped me to get up onto my hands and knees, they both seemed to freeze.

Turning to peer at them after several long moments, I could see that they were frantically whispering amongst themselves, and were both dotted with tiny beads of sweat.

Interesting.

As their gloved hands slid over my torso, my body shuddered a little bit before they spread my firm arse cheeks, with one hand each, and coated around my arse hole and along my crack with the slightly hotter than body temperature, thick, pink, sticky gunky wax, and now they used their gloved fingers instead of the previously required brushes.

Hmmm.

Clenching my teeth and closing my eyes tightly as they tore the hair from my most sensitive areas, I almost cried out in pain because it stung like buggery - forgive the pun – and began to pant lightly to control my body's response.

When they pulled my cheeks apart further, and a finger brushed over my puckered flesh again and again, I couldn't hold back a groan.

I love my arse being touched, and I heard the girls saying that they were checking for stray hairs as they continued to touch me, inappropriately, and although I truly didn't mind what they were doing, it was just getting to be too much and I was fighting to control my urge to hump against the treatment table.

One of the girls had suddenly backed away and said that she had to leave the room, explaining that she felt slightly faint, due to the heat. Funnily enough, her hot flush had only occurred when my fucking traitorous cock had hardened fully under their soft, feminine touch as they turned me over onto my back once more.

As I lay down on my back and spread my legs widely when they each yanked a knee outward, their gentle fingers smoothed the warm wax onto my bollocks and around the base of my cock, and when it twitched under their ministrations, they had both whimpered loudly.

Looking down, I sighed and flopped backwards again when I saw the bead of pre-cum that was sitting proudly on the tip.

That's when she left…

Shit.

But I couldn't blame it really, because I'm pretty sure that cupping your client's balls repeatedly, stroking the perineum with your thumb, and licking your lips incessantly whilst being so close to your client's cock that he can feel your breath on his wet, suddenly exposed glans, isn't usually part of the normal procedure.

One vague possibility of the scent of a pussy being in close proximity, and my fucking prick ALWAYS reaches for the heavens as quickly as possible, making my balls droop further as it does so.

I know exactly what effect my body has on both genders and milk it at any given time and as I had rolled my thighs out slightly and the cooler air had hit my now bare arsehole, my cock rose even higher towards its soft goal.

Sigh.

Sadly, for the remaining beautician and myself, her supervisor came into to assist her and caught her mid-squeeze of my balls just as she opened her mouth, inches above my throbbing erection, and she got removed immediately from my room.

Ugh.

There was definitely more than the slight possibility of at the very least a blow job there, and to be honest, I was more than likely going to get my arse finger fucked at the same time.

Oh well.

It had been strictly forbidden anyway so I was quite glad that temptation had been removed from my path.

But, as luck would have it, I got a complementary facial and back and shoulder massage for their lack of professionalism and a year's worth of free waxing vouchers, so it was a win-win situation for me.

When I had left the salon, I discovered that one of the assistants had slipped her number in my jeans pocket, but I'd crumpled the piece of paper up and thrown it in a bin, laughing, at the earliest opportunity. I had been forbidden any sort of sexual release or gratification, and as such, there is no way on God's green earth that I was going to allow these strangers, or anyone else come to that, spoil my chance to experience the ultimate in sexual depravities that was coming my way.

Smiling to myself again, I grab a pot of hair clay, or some such shit, and take out a dollop, rubbing it firmly between my hot hands, before I smooth it though my hair in a final desperate attempt to do as I've been told.

It would seem that I can control the wiry, errant hair that sprouts around my arsehole and balls with relative ease, but not the crap that grows on the top of my fucking head?

Where is the sodding justice in THAT?

Sigh.

Stroking my nails lightly across my smooth cheeks and jaw once again, I'm at least thrilled with the result of the hot flannel and cut-throat razor shave that I'd had at Trumpers at 4.00 pm, so that I can indeed remain as stubble free as possible, for as long as possible, tonight.

Washing my hands, I shake my head; I guess my hair is a bit of an analogy of myself in many ways really and as I tug my fingers through it again and again, I smile to myself. Like my mind, it's defiant, strong, wild, weird, but ostensibly, to the outside world, both are brilliantly appealing.

Sigh.

If only they knew.

My hair and I are virtually indifferent to the needs of others, even to us. We both appear to work as a separate entity.

A bit like my fucking cock!

I guess both are abnormal as some would undoubtedly say.

But then, I've never really felt 'normal' in the classical sense of the word, so my appearance just highlights this fact.

I'm not normal.

Not really.

Looking back at myself in the large, antique and expensively elegant mirror, I close my eyes and swallow.

No, I'm not normal at all.

And I don't want to be.

If you ask me, if normal in the everyday sense means conforming to a dull, monotonous existence, then I'll take weird any day of the week, thank you very much.

Opening my eyes again, I walk across the room before I rub some cologne onto the palms of my hands and smooth a little of it through my coppery mop, as he told me to.

My skin is to remain completely untouched and untainted by any chemicals, apart from deodorant, so that every part of my body is available for their 'pleasure' as he put it so succinctly.

Walking into the bathroom, I floss and brush my teeth once more, and I wash my hands and my cock and balls after peeing.

Sighing as my balls begin to throb, yet again, in desperation, I pull on my brand new, dazzlingly white Calvin Klein, skin tight boxer shorts that make my already burgeoning cock, and full balls, look even bigger than ever.

Staring at my crotch, I lightly smooth my hand over the tight fabric before I shake my head slowly as I look at the small damp patch that is already appearing on my clean underwear already.

Christ, I'm so fucking desperate, that I'm leaking non-stop pre-cum now.

Part of the rules had been that I wasn't allowed to masturbate for four-fucking-weeks.

Can you believe that?

What kind of sadistic fucker would come up with that kind of torturing cruel test?

Huh?

Bastard.

Shit.

Sniggering, I grin at my reflection once more and chuckle at what a smug little fucker I'd planned on being. I'd thought about being a sneaky bastard and letting someone else give me a hand job or a blowjob instead.

If I couldn't touch myself, surely someone else could do it for me, couldn't they?

The initial instructions hadn't said that another hand, or mouth, couldn't get me off, so all I needed to do was to go to one of Jasper's 99 Chimpanzees gigs, have a few beers, and maybe a joint, and one of the more than willing groupies would suck me off backstage, and finish me off with by making me cum again with a finger up my arse whilst wanking me off.

That's the way it always was, Jasper and I would often share the girls and never even had to kiss them, let alone touch them other than their hair or their hips whilst we thrust into one of their holes.

We were always careful to use condoms and not risk our health, because let's face it, these girls had been with God only knows who before us.

And we were just the same.

When Jasper's band was playing three nights a week, we would fuck at least two girls a night, so that was a lot of different holes we were dipping into which had been dipped into before by fucking God only knows who.

On more than one occasion, we would pick one out of the crowd that we both thought looked okay, and she would give me a blow job whilst Jasper fucked her from behind or vice versa.

And we often took two girls back to his tree house and fucked them side by side so we could see one another better.

Watching his cock slide in and out of a mouth or pussy was fucking hot and I know that he found watching me just as stimulating. We usually ended up staring at one another as we fucked the pliable warm body of whomever and even tried to time our orgasms so that we would cum together.

He got to fuck arses far more often than I did though, sadly, because my cock is much bigger and frightens the shit out of most people at the best of times but it's like a red light when pressed against an arse hole and I am usually refused entry!

I guess to most people that might seem more than a little bit strange that we liked watching each other fuck girls, but neither of us had ever been shy about walking about naked in front of one another or even wanking when we were together so why should be find fucking someone at the same time odd?

And the unpleasant fact is that these girls were chosen as merely an attractive, or not, vessel to make us cum and nothing more.

That's all we cared about, we weren't looking for relationships or even to help get them off, we just wanted somewhere hot, soft and willing to empty our balls into and as soon as we were done, we yanked up our jeans and left them without a backward glance.

Simple as.

Job done.

Everyone happy!

That was, until I read the next paragraph.

The fucker had written in bold, bright red, shouty frigging capitals, that I wasn't allowed sexual contact of ANY fucking kind… either at my own hand or anyone else's.

What the fuck?

FUCKER!

Have you any idea how hard - forgive the pun once again – that's been for me?

Huh?

Have you?

Well, let me fucking well tell you, I almost didn't stick to his instructions – in fact – I almost told him exactly WHERE to stick his fucking orders!

Almost.

It's all but killed me to adhere to this rule, to be honest, especially because one of the other fucking requirements was that I wear a medium or large butt plug. They had very thoughtfully provided various sizes for my use, along with an industrial sized pump action bottle of anal lube, and instructed me to wear them for eight hours every-fucking-day for the entire twenty eight days from when the list of requirements had arrived until right now!

The feeling as they slid in and stretched me every morning after my shower, made me gasp and pant at the large intrusion, and being the bloody minded mother fucker that I've always been, I refused to start small and work my way up.

Oh no.

I started with the largest and heaviest from day one, and almost failed on the first morning because it hurt badly to begin with but as I got used to the ache, it felt fucking great because I was so full.

The plugs are heavy, stainless steel and amazingly easy and smooth to insert, and they are quite long. With every bend of my body, they seem to press ever harder against my prostate and the cool metal is really amazingly stimulating. Even more so than fingers, believe it or not because they never tire.

So stimulating in fact, that on more than one occasion, I'd absently found myself stroking my rock hard cock, or squeezing my aching balls, as the plug rubbed relentlessly against my swollen gland. I'd even taken to wearing tighter jeans, seeking some sort of comfort and relief as my throbbing cock stroked itself against the seam. I had, of course, immediately stopped masturbating as soon as I'd realised what I was doing, but it'd almost crucified me to do so.

Having wanked, and orgasmed as a result of aforementioned wank, at least twice every day for almost four years, either by my own hand or another's, it's been almost impossible for me not to do it, even absentmindedly.

I've suffered from every ailment from the proverbial - and most definitely to be expected - blue balls, to sharp aching pains in my groin, stomach aches, headaches, irritability, sleeplessness and most embarrassingly of all, three fucking wet dreams.

Another part of my required preparation was to message him _every day_ explaining my feelings, desires, wants and needs.

This was something that I fucking hated doing, almost as badly as desisting from touching myself.

Everything was to be detailed, from the way the plug had made me feel to what I had eaten.

The wet dream message was an uncomfortable email - or three - to both write and send. I had never had to explain myself to anyone before, other than at school …and which had led to me being informed that I would be punished on our first session for my inability to follow a simple fucking order if I couldn't control myself!

Bastard.

Punished before we even began…

Great.

He was so pissed off with me for this "serious infringement of his wishes" as he put it, that it was also threatened that if it happened again, the test scene would be cancelled and wouldn't be rescheduled, and I'd have to seek a trial session with a different Dominant or Dominatrix.

If, that is, anyone else would even consider taking me on after the _'community'_ had been informed of my tardiness and inability to follow their simple orders…

Fuckers.

Well, failure was _NEVER_ an option for me in any sphere of my life, so, for the next three weeks, I'd slept as much as I could, sometimes as much as fifteen hours a day, with the help of four Kalms at a time, and I had worn two pairs of skin tight Speedo's beneath my boxers, twenty four hours a day. Even when wearing the plug… shudder. That made it press even more firmly inside of me as I clenched my cheeks harder.

Sigh.

Most of the time that would have been just delicious, but this was absolute fucking torture.

The headaches had been horrible, and I'd even attempted to keep my hands out of my trouser and jean pockets at all times to keep the temptation of stroking myself to a minimum.

I didn't stick to his rules completely, having visited friends in Ireland a couple of times and indulging every sexual combination known to mankind. I didn't tell them, obviously.

The other main instructions were that no alcohol, illegal substances or stimulants of any description were allowed to be imbibed - even coffee, tea or coca cola - that I had to get a minimum of seven hours sleep per night and that I had to eat a healthy diet consisting of three meals and two snacks per day. I also had to add as much pineapple and cinnamon to my diet as possible and to keep red meat to one portion per day to ensure that my bodily 'emissions' were sweetened.

Grrrrrr...

At least the sleeping requirements hadn't been difficult to stick to.

Sigh.

He had made me feel like a small child again, and like I said, it's been fucking torture.

The only concession to their rules that they'd been willing to make were the herbal sleeping aids, Kalms, so that I was able to stop wanking myself to orgasm in my sleep.

And, like I said before, I'm REALLY not normal, because, perverse as it may sound, the withdrawals and aches have only added to the feeling of excitement and that I am, at last, going to belong to something new and different.

So, normal be _damned_.

With this new foray into an unknown, exciting, highly secretive, potentially dark and seemingly hidden underbelly part of polite society, I'll never be expected to be 'normal' again.

Putting on some clean black socks, I then yank on a pair of brand new Tommy Hilfiger jeans and button up the fly, before I drag on an indecently tight, white Paul Smith V-necked t-shirt over my newly cut hair.

Biting my lip to hold back a groan as I stand properly and I shift slightly as the plug does its usual thing against my prostrate and my cock twitches deliciously against the tight fabric.

Shit…

I'm going to blow my load the second they look at me, let alone touch me, at this rate.

Huh.

My nipples are tight and hard beneath the stretchy cotton, showing how excited, or terrified, I already am and as I move my hands upwards to smooth the fabric, my muscles flex attractively.

They have repeatedly told me that I'm the most beautiful boy that they have ever seen… and that they have never wanted a person to submit to them as much as they want me to.

Right.

I think, in all honesty, that he wants it far more than she does, but that doesn't matter to me, as long as I experience something new and exciting.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror once more, I look intently into the shockingly emerald green eyes that gaze right back at me, without blinking and frown deeply.

Oh, I know that I look good, as usual, but that's all that anyone ever sees of me.

That's all anyone ever wants to see of me.

The pretty cover.

The 'amazing eyes and hair' or the family money.

No-one has ever tried to see the real 'me' hidden beneath the surface.

No-one has ever really cared enough to try.

Not really.

How the hell have I got myself into this again?

Huh?

'Normal' people don't sign pre-contracts agreements where they readily and happily say that they'll be subjected to abuse with every implement known to mankind, have molten wax poured over their genitals, weights tied to their bollocks, chunks of metal attached to their nipples, agree to share your body with anyone that they choose to give you to, no questions asked, and to happily bend over to allow cocks - whether flesh, silicone or rubber – fingers, vegetables and tongues, shoved up their arses without any love or emotion involved, do they?

Well?

Do they?

No.

No, they don't.

I don't think they do, to be honest.

Nor are they willing to agree to be hit, whipped and beaten with fists, rulers, canes, floggers, sticks and paddles.

In every aspect of my life, I've always been, and no doubt, always will be, the odd one out.

And in many ways, I've always actively sought solitude.

Being alone has been the one consistency in my life, so it's something that I've got used to and have adapted to.

Even in a crowd, I've never felt as though I really belong, apart from with the Whitlocks and sometimes with the Masens too. And I'm convinced that I've always been emotionally crippled and paralysed due to my loveless childhood.

My father had sent me to see a child psychologist when I was ten after my school had said that they were concerned about my lack of socialising and empathy regarding other children, but she gave up after six sessions saying that she couldn't help me.

She bored me rigid, so in the end I just turned around to look at a dirty mark on the wall and ignored her, and instead chose to practice concertos in my head.

Perhaps along with the physical pain and pleasure that I _know_ is coming my way, after they have taken their pleasure first, of course, my emotional retardation will thaw?

Is that possible?

Is it?

Perhaps handing total and absolute control of my mind and body over to these people will take away the feeling that I have to be responsible for everything and will thus allow me to bring mental feelings to the surface at the same time as I experience a new sense of physical enlightenment?

Maybe…

I don't know what it feels like to love anyone or anything.

In fact… pathetic as it sounds, I don't know what it feels like to _BE_ loved by anyone or anything.

Love has always been something for other people to feel and experience.

Never for me.

Ever.

It isn't for me.

And I don't want it.

I've never wanted it…

It isn't something that I've ever been interested in experiencing either, not in the slightest.

As far as I'm concerned, love is a waste of time, energy, emotion and effort and makes jibbering fools of men, and pathetic saps of women.

They become nothing but hollow failures, castrated by stupidity when it all falls apart and goes tits up.

And more frighteningly, I see it as an extreme weakness to need to rely on someone else to give you happiness - and I don't do weakness in any way, shape or form - whatsoever.

It's nothing but silly emotional, pathetic, fairy-tale clap-trap, and is something that goes totally against my logical, coolly disinterested and mathematically precise, nature.

At school I was always clever and analytical to the point of being weird and cold. I could take part in an adult conversation and both argue and dissect their discussions to the point of rudeness, at the age of two.

As a small child, I would sit in a corner, alone, reading, from four years of age. I wasn't interested in being 'friends' with any of the snot-nosed little brats whose loving mummies or au pairs picked them up after school with a biscuit and a hug.

Hence the suggestion of therapy.

Embarrassingly, I was dropped off and collected every day by my father's chauffeur with scarcely a nod, until I was sent to board at the age of six.

Would I belong in this new world?

Would I want to?

DO I want to?

Sigh.

Yes, I think for the first time in a long time, I am ready to commit to _something._

The enforced trust is something that I'm not entirely sure about but the emotionless fucking and promise of orgasms unlike anything I had ever experienced before had swung it for me to be honest. And having left school only four months previously, and being on the cusp of leaving London for the foreseeable future, I need 'something' exciting to fill the void that no longer being part of such an exclusive alumni has left.

Everything that I've 'known' has changed, yet again, and this particularly perverse kink seems as good a 'thing' as any to fill my time and titillate my voracious mental and sexual appetites.

I want something new, forbidden and different to inspire me, at least, before I leave London to begin my undergraduate law studies at St Catherine's College at Cambridge University, anyway.

Something that means that when I return to London in holidays and at weekends, I will be a part of a group of people who know me and know my likes, wants and needs without me having to explain myself.

Repeatedly.

How I will handle taking orders from these two remains to be seen.

From what I've heard, he does everything to the letter of his rules and instructions which suits me down to the ground because I love order and precision, hence the career choice.

The thought of dissecting a legal case suits my mathematically precise brain, and the very idea that the performance of a sexual act can also be broken down into a clinical, compartmentalised, highly controlled structure without any type of mental or emotional expenditure is hugely appealing and enthralling to me.

Looking at myself again, I sigh.

Because of the way people perceive me due to my appearance and the family that I descend from, the masses either feel inferior around me, or hang on my every word hoping for me to throw a few scraps of my heritage or cash their way.

Sigh.

Both of which I fucking hate, and the arse lickers and hangers-on drive me to the point of insanity!

There's only one type of arse licking that I enjoy and that isn't the right kind...

As intoxicating as it might sound having people following me everywhere like flies on shit, or listening to my every word as if it's the God's honest truth, is such a pain in the backside that it's vile.

Hence preferring my own company most of the time.

There aren't many people's views or opinions that I need or value in truth, and other than Jasper, I don't listen to anyone anyway.

You never know _why_ people want to be with you, whether it's because they care for you, or because they want to _be_ YOU and have what I have - and I always have, and always will - hate it.

On top of these oddities, I've also always had a very unfortunate predisposition to being obsessive about being the _very_ best that I can be in every aspect of my life. This includes all areas of education, music, sport, and athletics, verging on aggressive domination which I know isn't healthy.

It'll stand me in good stead with the law, and I know that I'll be able to fight my corner in any court of the land with both ease and confidence, but in other parts of my life, this is exhausting.

This, in turn, has also become the case with sex…I _have_ to be the best at both giving and receiving pleasure during every aspect of the act itself. It's almost as if I'm performing for an audience who will give me a score at the end of the experience …which I guess in turn has led me to where I am today.

Sigh.

And yet, you know, despite excelling at everything since the very earliest age, my father, to be honest, never even noticed that I was alive.

Ever.

Sighing once more, I turn away from the mirror and dresser and sit down on the edge of the bed, ignoring the incessant pressure in my arse as I remember one day when I was very young - about four or five. I had gone looking for my nanny, Jane, after I had woken up from a nap. I had been really unwell and was recovering from chicken pox. Even then, however poorly I was, I didn't bother looking for my father, because he was always either too busy to bother with me or wasn't at home.

I was never allowed to call him 'Dad' or 'Daddy' – it was always 'Father' – as he saw those terms as too informal and disrespectful.

Informal… how the hell could calling the man that sired you by a term of endearment be fucking disrespectful?

Staring at myself, I'm surprised at how flushed I've become as my hair flops slightly and my nostrils flare wildly as my chest rises and falls more rapidly as the rage that overwhelms me whenever I think of that waste of space, encompasses me once more.

He was my FATHER for fuck sake!

Isn't he supposed to be called by a pet name?

How formal is that relationship meant to be?

Huh?

Wasn't it his job to protect, cosset and adore me?

Well?

Wasn't it?

If that was indeed meant to be his role, he never accepted it or took that mantle on, instead he didn't seem to accept me as any part of his life at all and handed my care lock, stock and barrel over to a nanny from day one.

Jane, on the other hand, was genuinely fond of me and was the person closest to me in my every day home life, giving me the nearest thing to the elusive emotion - otherwise known as love - that I'd ever felt, or known, up to that point in time.

Most of my time was spent with her, and when I woke up from a nap, I couldn't find her and got upset.

I searched the whole house unsuccessfully, getting more and more upset because I was tired, scared and wanted my blue blankey, and eventually went into my father's bedroom, without knocking, to see if she was there.

She was there alright.

As was he.

I didn't even know that he had returned from his latest trip to India, it was a bit of a surprise for me to find Jane on her knees in front of him.

Of course, I'd no idea what was going on - I thought that she was merely helping him to do his trousers up like she did with me – but he was scared in the face and breathing heavily.

I asked why he had been running in the house. That was something that I was forbidden to do due to all the antiques. Well, he went mental and screamed and shouted for me to 'get the fuck out of my room' and after that, I was banned from entering his private rooms without his express permission, which he never, ever, gave.

Unfortunately, I can still vividly remember the look on her flushed face as she turned to stare at me with a horrified and shocked expression as she tried to tidy up her red, sweaty face and dramatically smeared lipstick.

His cock - or his 'pee pee' as I pathetically called it in those days – was sticking out of his trousers, covered in red stains, and even at my young age, I knew that that it wasn't a good thing for a child to be exposed to.

Jane left the next day without even saying goodbye to me, and Father took me into the garden where he lit the garden brazier and burned my blue, hand-knitted blanket as a punishment for invading his personal space.

Personal space!

I was a tired, lonely little boy for fuck sake and it was the only thing that I'd had that was made for me by my mother… and the bastard laughed and held me tightly by the arms when I cried and tried to yank it out of the fire as it melted and burned in the bright orangey red flames.

The other heart wrenching thing is that that was the only time that I could remember my father touching me.

He never hugged me or kissed me and he never even read me a bedtime story.

As the tears streamed down my face he squeezed me painfully and hissed into my ear, "Don't you cry, boy! Don't you dare! You are a Cullen, and Cullen's don't cry. Cullen's don't show weakness! Don't you bring shame onto the family name by being a cry baby!"

I hated him.

Hated him.

My blistered fingers remained untreated until I returned to school on the Monday morning and because of who my father was, no questions were ever asked.

But I learned one important lesson that day.

And that lesson was that I learned not to cry.

Ever.

And I didn't cry in front of him ever again.

Sigh.

He was an insensitive, cold, heartless fucker and my abiding memories of him are those of hatred and dislike, and sadly, and unfortunately for me, I seem to have inherited the inability to love from him.

Oh, he had paid the bills for my expensive education and ensured that I had everything I needed for all the most basic of material requirements, but never for my emotional wants.

He was distant at best, virtually permanently absent at worst. After Jane moved away, I was looked after, dispassionately, by a long and unfeeling succession of nannies and au pairs.

Whether he was fucking these women and then dismissed them when he became bored with them or not, I will never know, but all I do know, is that few lasted for longer than six months and everyone seemed to like me less than the one before.

On the brief occasions that our paths crossed, he would be too busy to ever spend any time with me, and would dismiss me to my room or the kitchen to keep me out of his way.

The summer house in the garden became my sanctuary and I spent many a lonely hour in there, with my teddy bear, Tristan, an apple, foil wrapped jam sandwich, bottle of water and my books, trying to keep myself from getting under his feet. And I guess that's where the need to be special in other areas of my life came from.

If I was the top of my class, he would notice me, surely?

If I was the captain of the rugby, football, cricket, basketball, tennis, rowing, boxing and swimming teams, he would know that I was alive, wouldn't he?

If I took my grade eight music exams at the age of six, he would be proud of me, wouldn't he?

If I could ask him questions in Mandarin when he returned home from a business trip in China, he would be stunned and thrilled, wouldn't he?

Sigh.

Standing again, I walk across the room to gather my required detritus for tonight.

How deluded a young child really is about the world and the people who are entrusted to care for them.

Chuckling wryly to myself, I tuck my phone, wallet, lavender scented hand cream and flavourless lip salve into the front pocket of my jeans.

Soft lips and hands are also a prerequisite of this evening.

Lowering the midnight blue window blinds, I've always loved dark blue, I leave the room, closing the door behind me with a resounding click.

Why the fuck would my father ever notice what I did or didn't do?

As far as he was concerned, I was little more than an irritating inconvenience in his life and he didn't care enough to ever acknowledge my presence, let alone my achievements, however big or small.

My abiding memories of birthdays and Christmases were a few beautifully wrapped educational presents from my father, grandmother and his business acquaintances, opened at the kitchen table, with my current nanny and then I would be immediately sent to my room to write thank you letters.

My friend, Elliott, had a Spiderman toy and I desperately wanted one.

For weeks before my eighth birthday, I left little drawings, pictures from magazines and wish lists all over the house just to show father what I wanted without actually asking him.

I was given a book on astronomy instead.

A cake, with candles, would always be served for tea, but I was never allowed to have anyone home to share my day with me. Not there was ever anyone who would want to spend the time with me, anyway because I had no close friends even at that young age, but frankly, that wasn't the point.

In truth, all jokes aside, I really do think I'm a bit of a loner, and always have been.

Even though people have wanted to be 'with' me for as long as I can remember, constantly telling me that I am beautiful and fawning all over me, none of them have ever inspired me in any way, shape or form, to want to have them around.

And none of them, until the Whitlocks and the Masens, had wanted my friendship.

So, stepping into this dark and depraved side of human sexuality seems to be the ideal way forward for me to go.

Loveless physical activity that helps me forget my reality however briefly, suits my needs and temperament perfectly.

After all, everyone, and everything, that has ever loved me has left me for one reason or another, so to be a part of something that requires nothing but obedience, suits me down to the ground.

Everything that I have ever felt close to has abandoned me, usually at the time when I wanted and needed them the most, so answer me this… why should falling in love be any different?

If I did have the misfortune to love someone, they would only desert me and I may have sadistic tendencies, but I really don't know about this masochism shit to be honest… perhaps I am a physical masochist, but I am most definitely not a mental one!

Even my mother died having me for fuck's sake, her heart gave out and she left me before I had even filled my lungs to scream a hello to her, or before I had even had the chance to clap eyes on her.

Who would have known that she had a weak valve and that the effort of having the 'natural birth' that she'd insisted upon, despite the recommendation of a caesarean section, to keep her darling baby safe and drug free, would kill her.

She'd probably roll in her grave if she knew that the guilt of my own birth killing her would lead me to experiment with drugs later in life, wouldn't she?

So much for a drug free start to my life, huh?

There were paintings and photographs of her all over the house, but nothing personal to her.

Absolutely nothing.

I once asked him what she smelled like.

He curled his lip, huffed loudly and totally ignored me.

Strangely enough, her clothes, books, piano and private knick knacks had all been removed so that there was nothing left. Anything that'd had any kind of imprint of her life on it, had just vanished.

The pictures could have been of anyone… he never discussed her.

Ever.

And then, when I was the ripe old age of twelve, my father got himself killed by a frigging rhino whilst camping in the wilds of the scrub-like bush with his much too young, female, blonde and buxom assistant, when he was _researching_ the likelihood of buying half an African country's fertile land on behalf of the World Wildlife Fund for the Natterjack Toad or some such bollocks.

I don't know when I realised that we were rich, but I think it must have been around about this time.

Disgustingly rich in fact.

All I know is that I couldn't quite fathom out exactly why the fuck did he have to keep travelling around the world to find some poor country to rape and pillage when we could have supported several small countries many times over with the dirty money that was stashed away all over the planet under a large umbrella of company's owned by the damned Cullen clan?

Huh?

Why couldn't he just have stayed at home in London and got to know the son who desperately craved his attention, like normal fathers do?

Huh?

Somehow, I always knew we had money and from a very early age I knew _exactly _where our family money came from, and I didn't like it.

It would seem that I hail from a long line of merchants, bankers, industrialists, professional liars and historical swindlers.

We didn't need any more fucking money.

I know this now because when I turn twenty one, the entire fortune of dirty money and its' blood soaked accoutrements becomes mine.

Sigh.

Daddy dearest went into the conservation game as a way of buying vast tracts of land from the poor unsuspecting natives, and then rapidly and ruthlessly sucked the life out of their country, looking for minerals, jewels, gas, oil – you name it - in the process, without stirring up any suspicion.

By pouring millions of pounds, rand, francs, deutschmarks, yen and dollars into saving the blue arsed whatever, or purple nippled thingummy jig, everyone patted the fucker on the back and hailed him as the best thing since sliced bread. And then proceeded to turn a blind eye to what his real raison d'etre was or how many people died in the process.

Forget any thought of it being for charitable reasons.

Oh no.

His whole purpose in life was to add to the already obscene pile of money and assets attached to the Cullen name.

Maybe he felt that he had a point to make too, to try and live up to the illustrious 'Cullen' name.

Perhaps.

He really was a fucker of the highest degree.

He was tall, dark, handsome and charismatic, so I believe, and he used everyone and everything around him for his own ends. I loathed him from a very early age, sensing that he was the conniving, selfish bastard that the rest of society couldn't, or wouldn't see him to be, and I pulled further and further away from him as the years went by.

He couldn't bear to look at me on the rare occasions that our paths crossed and if I sat near him, he would immediately stand up and move across the room as far away from me as possible.

Deep down, I'm convinced that he blamed me for my mother's death and hated the fact that, with the same hair and eye colour, I was the absolute image of her, and so I was a permanent, living, and obviously painful, daily reminder.

I think that perhaps he'd loved her, well - as much as he was able to love anyone - but her overwhelming desire to give him a son and heir to continue the fucking Cullen line had meant that I'd taken her away from him, and he could never, and would never, forgive me for that.

For that reason, I swore from the earliest of ages that I would stay single, have no children, and give most of the family blood money away to worthy causes.

This was something that I had already done.

I had signed up to be involved in several charities, including a couple of small, unfashionable, third world children's organisations, several African and UK animal sanctuaries and the British Heart Foundation, in memory of my much yearned for mother.

On the rare occasions that my father and I had spoken to one another, he always ended up nursing a large Brandy or five, getting smashed and usually finished our brief conversation by saying that he'd given me his name, Anthony, as my middle name just so that he felt that I was at least, in part, related to him.

Adding that part of his moniker to the prestigious 'Cullen' surname meant, I guess, that I was connected to him and was always preordained to become a calculating fucker of the highest degree really, like him, rather than my mother, Elizabeth, wasn't I?

When I reach twenty one, I'll have more money than I'll ever know what to do with, alongside a massive land, jewellery and property portfolio.

None of this has ever interested me. I'm not in the slightest bit fucking interested in what the family had made in the past, fortune-wise, or glory-wise, for that matter. I want to make my own way in life, and earn my own livelihood.

It had been suggested so many times whilst I was growing up that I either follow Grandfather Cullen into Hedge Fund Investment Banking due to my natural instinct with problems and complex mathematics, or Dad, into Conservation, simply because of who I am.

I curled my lip up at both to be honest.

The only person who showed the slightest bit of interest in me and my developmental needs up until I was eight was my grandmother and she pleaded with me to do neither of those careers. She tried to build a relationship between the three of us, but my father was just not interested in getting to know his own mother, let alone his child, and she retreated to her second home in Devon, seeing neither of us particularly often.

When I visited her during my holidays, she would sit for hours listening to me playing both the guitar and the piano and clapped enthusiastically at my endeavours.

Looking back, I guess that she was just as lonely as I was, and craving the love of the one person who would never be able, or willing, to give it to either of us.

When she died after she fell from a horse whilst out hunting, she left me her beautiful piano and her massive collection of jewellery, as well as her main house in Hampstead and all her money.

Father was fucking _fuming_ because he was left her house in the country, and wanted to keep it, no doubt as a bonking palace, but had to sell it to pay for her death duties.

So ultimately, he was left with nothing from his mother, whilst I got everything.

He hated me more than ever over that debacle.

Sigh.

More money.

More possessions.

No love.

So now you can see WHY relationships never held much sway for me.

Sigh.

As I said, everyone I cared for left me and usually suddenly, violently and unexpectedly.

So, there I was, aged twelve, and an orphan to boot.

I was collected from school by Bill, the Chauffeur, and taken to the Cullen offices in Threadneedle Street, where our family lawyer, Mr Burke was waiting for us with a box of Kleenex.

He sat me down and patted me gently on the shoulder before he broke the tragic news of my father's untimely passing. I stared at him, unblinking, as he explained what had happened and quite what my father's Will entailed.

I was going to be one of the most eligible bachelors in London when I came of age, and I totally tuned out when he began discussing the executors and the planned meeting that was going to take place the next day to decide my future.

That fact that I didn't shed a tear for him when I was told, and they all flapped and fussed around blaming my lack of emotion on deep seated grief.

Shit.

If only they knew…

The fact is I didn't give a flying fuck that he was dead if I'm completely honest.

He was merely an acquaintance, a ship that passed me briefly in the night from time to time and I would have been more upset if Bill had died. He had been my one constant from when I turned three. He took me for my first ever McDonald's on the way home from school two days after his death, because I had never been allowed one whilst the fucker was still breathing.

Within a day of the massive pomp and ceremony of the lying, selfish fucker's funeral in a hugely expensive family plot in the new part of Highgate Cemetery, I was shipped off to live with my maiden aunt, in her tiny little musty house in Muswell Hill, north London without any pre-warning or any choice.

She was my mother's older half-sister and I think that she only agreed to have me living with her because she thought that she'd be given a big fat pay-off and get to live in the sprawling, and very grand, family home. I had only met her twice before, and one of those times was at the funeral when she turned up in a moth eaten looking long black cardigan covered in cat hair, and a supermarket carrier bag containing a loaf of stodgy white bread, a bottle of a cheap generic brand of vodka and a trashy daily newspaper in hand.

She agreed to look after me to the best of her spinsteresque abilities, and then pleaded and begged the executors to allow her to live with me in the Cullen home in Highgate.

That didn't happen.

The family assets were tied up tighter than a duck's arse by good old Daddy Tony and his cronies, and all that she was given, was a paltry thousand quid every month to pay for my bed and board. I wasn't worth any more than that to any of them.

This royally pissed her off knowing that I wasn't going to be the proverbial goose that laid the golden egg for her, and after she found this out, she resolutely ignored me.

After she showed me to my lodgings, she led me back down stairs, and left me to drag my cases and bags up to the attic, and that was that.

Fuck off Edward!

The room was small with a low roof and broken, sagging bed.

It smelt odd and forgotten and the bed wasn't even long enough for me when I was twelve and I had one, old, stained foam pillow and a quilt that was pretty much in the same condition.

I remember wondering why none of the people who were supposed to be in charge of my future had ever bothered to visit and see if she, or her home, were suitable for me, but no one cared enough to even think about doing that.

From then on, she spent her days watching QVC or Gems TV and buying the naffest, cheapest, tackiest shit that she could find whilst she drank glass after glass of 'fizzy water' - which, even at twelve, I knew was a pint glass full of odourless vodka and tonic!

Before being dispatched to live in what was to become hell on earth with the vodka-guzzling Wicked Witch of the North of London, N10, I had lived between the family home, the aforementioned massive Georgian house, in Highgate, and my private school, Harrodian, in west London.

Why was I sent all the way across London to school when there are plenty of perfectly acceptable schools within walking distance you might ask?

Well, frankly, it doesn't take a genius to guess that Dad wanted me to be as far away from him as possible for most of the week so that he didn't have to bother with me at all.

How pathetic is that?

Every Sunday evening, Bill would strap me into my seat in the back of the Bentley and would proceed to drive me all the way to Barnes for school. And then, on a Friday evening, he would collect me once more. He always brought me a drink, a snack and a comic and would chat to me about things like rugby and football. No one else had ever done that.

At other times, I was cared for by Heidi, but after Dad died the house was closed up and Heidi was sent away. I was forced to move out because the executors thought that it was highly inappropriate for an early pubescent boy to live alone with a voluptuous woman in her mid-forties, whom he wasn't related to. And even though I always knew I'd live there again once I came into my inheritance, it wouldn't be for many years.

Sadly.

Well, from day one, my new living arrangements were an unmitigated disaster, and I went days without being fed before I walked to the City because I had no money to take the bus or the tube, and complained to our lawyer.

It had been decided that I would go to a small local private school when the summer holidays ended as Bill had been removed from his job too.

The old bag kept me for all of four weeks, feeding me on a healthy diet of crisps, cheese sandwiches and beans on toast, after Mr Burke threatened to remove her allowance if she didn't ensure that I had three meals a day, before my noise, mess, music and smells made her uncomfortable and she insisted that the executors find somewhere else for me to stay most of the time.

So, with the aid of a massive donation to slide open a place for me, I was unceremoniously packed off to board fulltime at Eton College, public school, my grandfather's alumni.

Eton College is considered to be the most prestigious school in the whole of England, and the world in many cases. It's so highbrow in fact, that even Prince William attended, albeit two years ahead of me, not to mention every Lord, Prince, Sheik and drug baron's offspring too.

I loved it there from day one.

My 'home' in the school consisted of one large, studio type space that was used for both sleeping and studying, and a small, private bathroom. I could decorate it in any way I saw fit, but as I had no personal money to speak of, I left it as it was, only taking some books, photographs and my meagre collection of CD's and old vinyl records with me.

Even the ridiculous uniform of striped trousers, waistcoat, white shirt - with high false collar - and black tailcoat, made me feel as if I belonged to something for the first time in my entire life. I was proud to wear it when I walked the aged cobbled streets of Windsor in the shadow of the beautifully impressive castle and even smiled when a tourist, or seventy five, asked to take my picture.

I used to stare up at the huge, thick, crenulated Norman walls of the castle in awe, and if the Royal Standard flag was flying, I'd smile and wonder if William and Harry Wales ever popped home to have afternoon tea with their granny and grandfather when they were in residence.

I would've loved to have had a granny to visit, whether it was the Queen or one of her Ladies in Waiting.

In fact, I would have loved to have had ANY relative to have visited who gave a fuck whether I was alive or not, for _any_ reason.

Suddenly, I had acres and acres of wide open space at my disposal, and access to every sport imaginable. Harrodian had offered me plenty of choices, but nothing compared to Eton's wealth of opportunities.

Overnight, I was part of something for the first time in my life, and as I excelled in virtually every subject, it was instantly my idea of paradise.

The only bleak spot on my otherwise pleasant and quite bright horizon, was that every holiday, and some weekends, I was forced to go back to my aunt and her cramped, damp, cat and tat filled house.

I joined every extra-curricular activity available and threw myself into my studies to keep me away from THAT particular fate that felt worse than death!

The work was easy for me, I was naturally academic and just because I could, I added Greek to the Latin, French, German and Mandarin that I was already well on the way to learning.

From the age of three, I'd started both piano and guitar lessons. Music had been my mother, Elizabeth's, life-blood. She had been a nice, middle-class, stunningly beautiful, pianist with the London Symphony Orchestra before Anthony Cullen met her and swept her off her feet, and it had been her wish that her child be encouraged to be given the chance to be musically minded.

Hell, I was even named after Edward Elgar, one of her favourite composes, who was one of her ancestors, so I'd had a musical influence, by association, from birth.

I'd continued with lessons - in both instruments - up to the present day. I could play both lead and rhythm guitar on my various Fender Stratocaster's, but to be honest, I much preferred playing classical pieces and self-composed music on my acoustic guitar, and spent many a long, melancholy, melodic hour strumming away on my own, and singing along mournfully as I did so.

This used to drive my aunt _INSANE,_ and I would snigger and grin as she slammed and banged in abject irritation downstairs, huffing and grumbling in between mouthfuls of her vodka and tonic. So obviously, me, being me, I loved the effect that this was having on her and I would chuckle loudly as I annoyingly played the same piece of music over and over and over again, as I deliberately, and very badly trilled along with it…

I had a good voice and had been in the choir at Harrodian so I knew I could sing, I just chose not to be able to in her presence. The cats didn't mind, they still spent their entire time holed up with me, the toy mice I had bought them and the cans of tuna and salmon that I smuggled upstairs with me to eke out their miserable dried food diet.

She HATED that her cats loved me, and started to forbid me from having them in my room.

Was it my fault that they sneaked in and scampered under my manky quilt when I went for a piss on a Friday night?

Huh?

Was it?

Snigger.

She didn't want me there, any more than I _wanted_ to be there, but she was my next of kin and she also got paid handsomely from the executor of my parents will for "caring" for me – caring being a euphemism for giving me a roof over my head – so she bit her tongue and did the same as I did; counted down the minutes until I left her home again and returned to the gentrified elegance of Eton. Beans on toast twice a day for two days on the odd weekend visit could hardly add up to two hundred and fifty pounds per week by anyone's calculations, so she kept her mouth shut most of the time and just ignored me. If I stripped my grubby sheets off for her to wash, she would just leave them in a heap on the kitchen floor, untouched, and the cats would just piss on them before I would return them to my little bed on my next visit from school, even dirtier than before I had removed them in the first place, so in the end I stopped bothering and took to sleeping on a towel on top of the sheets.

Looking back, if Social Services had ever been involved, she would have been charged with neglect.

On every dreaded break from the school term, and the few weekends that I couldn't find any extra sport or academic activities to prevent me from returning to Haringey, I spent my time mooching around in my very basic, and very tiny, damp, smelly, wood chip covered walled garret room, playing or listening to music, or wandering around local music shops, bored out of my skull as I attempted to speak with a "norf" London accent, and not my clipped, upper class, posh-boy tones.

I grew my coppery bronze, or 'ginger' hair, as my old bitch of an aunt called it, so that it flopped over my much too green eyes in a bid to conceal them somewhat, and it trailed over my collars at school.

Stupidly, I took to wearing Rastafarian style large, multi-coloured knitted hats and baggy, low-slung jeans that dangled alarmingly off of my much too skinny hips, threatening to fall down at any moment, and revealed the tops of my much too large boxer shorts at the same time.

Sigh.

It meant that I had to adopt a funny limping style walk to keep them up. It looked like I either had terrible haemorrhoids or that I'd shit my pants but I thought that I looked cool. These peculiar looking trousers were accompanied by long, loose, graffiti covered tops or t-shirts with old 1960's revolutionary slogans or highly inappropriate quotations, and when I added unlaced trainers to the ensemble, this impeded my ability to walk even further and I looked as if I had one leg shorter than the other.

In all fairness to those who sniggered as I walked by, they were quite right in their view that I looked like a fucking state to be honest, especially with the way that I was forced to walk with my toes turned inwards and my knees knocking in a feeble bid to stop my shoes from flying off, and my trousers from dropping down to my ankles.

Sigh.

Humming melodically, and in a totally wrong, mid-tone key to the latest rap or dub star didn't exactly ingratiate me to the gaggles of deeply cool black boys that gathered to listen to their large CD players, as I wandered through Finsbury Park. They used to look at me with utter pity as I tried to look 'cool', and I would lean nonchalantly against a tree and try to join in their conversations.

Luckily, they were quite accommodating towards me, and even though they used to take the piss out of my silly accent, much too white, freckly skin and funny coloured hair and eyes, they always let me share a spliff or three and fed me bits of their crappy, but delicious, junk food, without setting their terrifyingly slathering demon-dogs onto my scrawny arse when I attempted to speak with their Hackney style slang. I could just about afford a dozen cans of booze on my monthly allowance, and was more than happy to share it with them in return.

They used to fall about laughing hysterically when I adopted a mock cockney accent; mockney I guess you could call it, but at least I had boys my own age to hang around with for a little while, and they found it particularly amusing when I would fall flat on my face due to my untied shoelaces AFTER I'd smoked a joint with them.

I wanted to fit in.

Desperately.

But sadly, I never did, and after I'd staggered home, high or drunk on cheap dope or cider, I'd collapse on my bed without a nod of acknowledgement from the old bat when I returned to the prison, otherwise known as my room, in the evening.

The cats almost killed me on several occasions in their bid to get up the stairs and into my room ahead of me.

She neither noticed, nor cared, what state I returned to her home in and as she rarely cooked for me, I was left to rustle up a meagre supper on my own, drunk and disorderly in charge of a frying pan, after which, the cats and I would share my burnt offerings whilst sitting on the dirty mattress.

So loneliness really is my prevailing memory of my times away from Eton.

I would travel back into London on the train on a Friday evening with some of the other boys but the moment that we disembarked at Paddington, we all went our own ways and I was once again alone.

Most of the time, I spent many hours lying on my bed staring at a stain on the ceiling of my room with a cat on either side of my head.

After I'd finished every scrap of schoolwork I could rustle up whilst listening to my aunt and her cronies cackling loudly downstairs as they played Whist, Gin Rummy and other shitty card games, waddling about in multi patterned and frankly quite terrifying looking kaftans while getting pissed on cheap sherry and listening to weird and deeply disturbing psychedelic shite from the 1960's.

Thankfully, and unbelievably, all of that changed one fateful summer holiday when I met Jasper Whitlock.

It was a stinking hot and humid July day, and, as I was lost deep in thought on this particular Sunday morning, digging about through old vinyl records in Camden Lock Market – the old bitch still had a turntable, thankfully – and I had just received my pathetic monthly allowance from the Cullen Estate - I felt a tap on my shoulder.

Scowling, I turned around and looked at the pretty, pouting boy who was standing behind me and said "What the fuck do you want?"

Grinning brightly, he didn't seem the slightest bit put out at my non-existent and deeply unpleasant 'welcome'; instead, he merely smiled and said that he knew me.

Looking at him more closely, scowling, I vaguely remembered him from my time at Harrodian School, west London. He was tall, scrawny and had mid-brown floppy hair, with a few honey coloured highlights that trailed into his vividly bright amber speckled, green eyes.

And the widest, brightest and most infectious smile I'd ever seen and it was so beautiful, that it almost took my breath away.

We weren't close at school because, of course, he had parents who wanted him around, and as they lived in near-by Richmond in those days, he went home in the evenings. I, on the other hand, was in my father's way, and might have impinged on the time he spent fucking his latest secretary, nanny or friend's wives, so as I said previously, I used to board there during the week from the age of six. That was before dear old Dad had selfishly popped his clogs on the end of that mammalian fucker's compact keratined horn and I was forced to part company with everything and everyone I knew, and I had to therefore leave Harrodian too.

After a slightly uncomfortable first five minutes, Jasper soon put me at my ease as we both flicked threw the old 1970's vinyl albums and discovered that we shared the exact same taste in early punk and glam rock music.

Within minutes, he had me doubled up in laughter as he regaled me with his escapades at school, and we ended up wandering around the market together for the rest of the day, eating chips, deep fried donuts, crepes, filled with sweet and sour shit, and drinking Coke, chatting all the while about music, rugby and girls.

Instantaneously, I felt something that was rare for me.

I felt happy.

Amazingly, for once in my life, I seemingly had a "friend" - to the outside world anyway - and we hit it off immediately.

Other than Tipsy and Dotty, the old bitch's cats, I had no-one to speak to when I was away from Eton. I was strictly forbidden from using her phone so I was totally and utterly cut off from the rest of humanity, not that I had anyone to phone _anyway_.

He laughed at the way I was dressed and yanked the ludicrous floppy hat off of the top of my head and threw it into the canal, where it immediately sank like a brick next to a slightly alarmed looking swan. I laughed right along with him because he wasn't being unkind or spiteful, he was just stating a fact - I did look a fucking state.

When the day came to an end, we parted at Camden Town underground station. I shuffled down the pavement towards the tube, reluctantly, on my part at least, after a long, tiring and blissfully happy day, but I perked up when he had given me all of his details and told me to keep in touch.

He asked for my numbers in return, and I got embarrassed and stuttered as I explained to him that I would only be able to ring him from the payphone in the school grounds whilst I was at Eton and that I wouldn't be able to either ring out or receive calls when I was in London, he was shocked.

We met up again the following Sunday, and he even lent me his old phone so that we could speak every day when I was in Berkshire during the week.

From then on, Jasper and I were inseparable.

Totally the opposite of me in every way, Jasper was funny, witty and relaxed, popular, in demand and completely at ease with himself.

He was the over-indulged only son of doting parents, and he always had the very latest equipment when it came to every gizmo and gadget known to mankind. These were replaced regularly as new things became available and he started to give me his cast-offs. He could also wear the coolest and hippest, grungy clothes, at all times thanks to the generous weekly dollop of cash that was deposited into his bank account, without question by his parents.

I started to leave Eton every weekend, still the ever diligent student, laden down with my studies, just so that I could meet up with Jasper.

Two weeks after we met up again, he took me back to his home in Maida Vale to introduce me to his parents.

His mother, Charlotte, was tall and slender, with short, light brown hair. Jasper looked very much like her and I envied him instantly when I saw the gentle, loving rapport that he shared with her.

His father, Garrett was also tall, but with dark, collar length hair and he was quiet and gentle and the both welcomed me into their home with loving arms.

They were like a drug to me, all three of them, and I found myself _needing _to be with them in a way that I neither understood nor had ever felt before.

After several weekend visits, Charlotte had insisted on washing my two outfits of clothing. She was slightly aghast at the grey, threadbare, holey state of my underwear and two t-shirts, and when I explained that I did try to hand wash them in the bathroom sink but that body wash didn't seem to keep them very white, she looked horrified. And that I wasn't due to get any more money for clothing for another few months she was taken aback and said, "But you are a Cullen, Edward! I don't understand! Your family is immensely wealthy! Why don't you have more clothes?"

Wow.

So even they had heard of our family name.

Sigh.

The next weekend, without a word, Charlotte handed me four carrier bags full of new clothing, underwear and trainers.

I didn't know what to say. I had never had so many new and fashionable things and I was stunned almost to tears.

They fed me well and were now clothing me as well as being interested in how I was doing at school, and all they asked of me was my time.

Jasper encouraged me to go to the people in charge of my trust fund, and put my foot down and demand a bigger allowance, plus quite a large one off payment to buy decent musical equipment, as well as a decent CD player and a PC of my own.

He took me shopping to buy more new clothes and insisted that I had my hair cut at least a little bit to take it out of my eyes.

Every free weekend, that I wasn't rowing, boxing, wrestling, playing rugby, tennis, football, cricket, or swimming or rowing for the school team, I was with Jasper.

Every spare moment not taken up with music, study, language lessons and more sport, and of course every holiday of any length, was spent with him and his family.

And, amazingly for me, for the first time in my entire life, I was unbelievably a part of a real family. I was so overwhelmed by it all that I was happy just to sit and observe Jasper and his father, Garrett, interacting with one another. Even watching them laughing and joking together, playing scrabble, listening to music or teasing each other, was fascinating for me, and made my heart ache for reasons I couldn't understand, and refused to acknowledge.

They liked me and actually WANTED me to spend time with them.

My Aunt happily relinquished spending Christmas with me, and even dug into her deep pockets with her much too short arms to give me a lump sum to buy the Whitlock's presents, before she fucked off to the Bahamas, leaving her cats to the mercy of her odd neighbour, Margaret, for a month, no doubt on the proceeds of my monthly allowance.

The fun, love and joy of Christmas day in the Whitlock household shocked me to my very core.

The house was decorated brightly and elaborately with foliage, decorations and spangly, sparkly 'stuff' and it smelt deliciously of spices and warmth.

There were trees by the front door, in the hall, in the drawing room, in the dining room and even a tiny one in the kitchen.

Charlotte was fucking obsessed and she took to wearing mini snow men or Christmas tree shaped earrings and bizarre headbands with holly wrapped around them.

I had never seen, smelt or experienced anything like their home, and I walked silently from room to room feeling as if I was wandering around some sort of Hollywood film set.

It was quite simply magical, and I found myself becoming fully immersed in the joy and love of the season as Charlotte bustled about baking, shopping and organising us.

On Christmas Eve, we went to church and I sat, mesmerised, listening to the lovely sounds coming out of Jasper's mouth as he sang carols.

I was totally stunned when Jasper woke me up the following morning and I found that for the first time in my life, Father Christmas had visited me!

My father had never bothered with stockings and any kind of tradition, hell most years we didn't have decorations at all, and I had no idea that people REALLY did that for their kids.

We were given blood red velvet stockings that were hung during the night at some point over the ends of our beds that were filled with little inconsequential, funny, silly, meaningless and lovely gifts. Playing cards, chocolate coins, odd shaped soaps, funny sweets, a rubber duck for the bath, socks, handkerchiefs, funny jokes, gloves – all unneeded but very much appreciated items and I sat smiling on my bed, beneath a thick, fluffy duvet, as I opened every gift and laughed loudly as each small parcel revealed another small present that gladdened my heart.

The Masens arrived mid-morning and we spent the rest of the day sodding about in the snow and ice on brightly coloured, plastic sledges, zooming up and down the pavements of North West London and making them more dangerous than ever when we poured water on the ice to make our vehicles move faster.

After changing our clothes we sat down at the table and stuffed ourselves to the point of nausea on the most delicious food I had ever tasted, and getting slightly hammered by drinking copious amounts of mulled wine, we headed into the drawing room where we exchanged our main gifts.

The tree in this room had been smothered in tinsel and multi-coloured lights and dripped with a cacophony of things ranging from Liberty handmade glass baubles to cut out foil angels from Jasper's nursery days.

There was a veritable mountain of brightly coloured packages piled underneath the tree of all shapes and sizes.

Of course, having had no experience of family Christmas's, I had followed my father's route and had ordered pre-wrapped presents for them all from Harrods and Fortnum and Mason's, all chosen and suggested by personal shoppers.

They were, of course, glamorous, expensive, elaborate and impersonal, wrapped firstly in embellished tissue paper and then vastly over-priced, wood-blocked paper, topped off with hand tied satin ribbons.

A Hermes scarf for Charlotte.

A Louis Vuitton wallet for Garrett.

A Marc Jacobs messenger bag for Jasper.

An Edinburgh Crystal decanter for Esme and Peter, and finally a silver Tiffany bracelet for Rosalie.

They were all thrilled, but deep down, I knew that they would have been just as happy with an embroidered handkerchief from Marks and Spencer.

Apart from Rosalie, of course!

They all huffed and puffed saying that the gifts were too generous, blah de blah de blah, but how could I explain that the love, time and friendship that they willingly gave me, without needing anything in return, meant more to me than anything else I had ever known in my life?

Huh?

Besides, the old bitch was paying, so what the fuck!

The pile of presents under the tree unbelievably for me, took my breath away.

They weren't elegantly wrapped, rather they were sort of thrown into their garish and gaudy thin paper and were taped together haphazardly, but once they were opened, they were the most wonderfully and lovingly thought-out presents that I had ever received.

Esme and Peter had bought me a very generous voucher for a large well-known record store in London that meant I could buy all the music I could possibly need over the next twelve months.

Rosalie bought me the very latest England rugby jersey, something that I had always wanted but had never had before.

Jasper bought me the smallest little music player available and had filled it will all my favourite music, and his parents had bought me some new clothing and a brand new mobile phone on a contract that meant I didn't have to worry about running out of credit.

I was shocked at their thoughtfulness.

But it was their final gift that took my breath away and that had almost brought me to my knees.

They had found a recording of my mother playing at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden the year before I was born and had had it transferred to a CD.

I didn't even know that such a recording had been made let alone that one still survived, and, understandably, I was so stunned at hearing the notes that fell from her finger tips for the first time in my thirteen years, that I had to excuse myself and sit on my own under my duvet in my room listening to it again and again, for half an hour until the tears stopped and I managed to compose myself again.

None of them said a word about my watery, red rimmed eyes when we had tea in the dining room.

The Whitlocks then took me skiing with them in the February half-term. Unbelievably, despite my family connections with other countries, I had never set foot off of British soil before and I was over the moon when they told me that they had even organised a passport for me.

They hired all the clothing and equipment that I would need, Jasper and Rosalie were already equipped with everything they required, and after three short lessons, I was flying down slopes that were not suitable for a beginner.

Unsurprisingly, it had appeared that I had found yet another sport that I had a natural affinity to.

Within a week, I'd added snowboarding to my sporting repertoire too.

Jasper was CRAP on skis, as he was at most sport apart from rugby and football, but he would just laugh, and roll over in the snow as I zoomed past him, without ever sulking.

Rosalie didn't even put her skis on. She spent the entire time off-piste at the après ski bar, drinking and flirting, again, in front of her oblivious relatives as she repeatedly zipped and unzipped her much too tight, crimson ski suit showing her more than ample cleavage to any male in the vicinity.

As much as I lusted after Rose, in all truth, I had a bit of a boy-crush on Jasper.

Of course, I didn't FANCY him, but I REALLY wanted to be him.

He was okay at school, not naturally clever like I was, but he held his own, and the fact that he wasn't the 'best' at every subject didn't bother him, or his loving parents, in the slightest.

He didn't give a shit about the way I looked, how clever I was or wasn't, or how much money I did, or didn't, have.

He liked me.

Simple as.

He wanted to be my friend and spend time with me.

No-one had ever been like this with me before.

All he wanted from me was my friendship and I was totally and utterly intoxicated by him and his world.

I loved him…

He was almost as good at music as I was and we spent hours composing and playing our scribblings together in his large, cluttered, sprawling attic room or his tree house that he had even been allowed to help design. I had one of the guest rooms on the floor below him and after a while, his parents added a desk, TV, computer, CD player and stand for my guitars.

I even had my own small shower room.

It was always referred to as 'Edward's room,' and I still find it unbelievable that they would give me my own room in their home.

For the first time in my life, I had a home and was part of a family.

My Aunt didn't even ask where I was going most of the time so after a few months, I stopped asking for her permission and just went where I wanted to.

When Garrett drove me home one Saturday afternoon to collect most of my small collection of possessions from Muswell Hill, my aunt was delighted to be free of me again and was thrilled that I would rarely be returning to her home any more. She waved me off happily at the front door after checking with me that I wouldn't be telling the executors of my parents' estate that I had moved out, so that she got to keep the monthly cheques.

In truth, I really missed the cats and I worried that they would be lonely, and hungry without me but because I was away at school for a minimum of five days out of seven, there was absolutely nothing that I could do about it.

Not long after I'd become reacquainted with Jasper, and become assimilated by the Whitlocks, I met the Masens, and, from the age of thirteen, Jasper, his cousin, Rosalie, his friend, Emmett and I, were together as much, and as often, as possible.

Inseparable.

Rose and Emmett were two years older than us and far more mature. Which, to be honest, wasn't very difficult. Jasper and I were like a couple of little boys together with the silly, childish pranks that we played on them!

Rosalie went to St Pauls Girl's School in Wimbledon, but didn't board. Her adoring parents sent her to and from school in a taxi every day to keep her safe. Jasper now attended City of London School, with Emmett, whose parents were friends of Garrett and Charlotte's, after being expelled from Harrodian, due to being caught smoking a joint in the girls' toilets at the ripe old age of fourteen.

Don't ask.

The first time I met Rosalie, I had an instant, rock hard and highly embarrassing erection.

It was a Saturday morning and she was bending over in the garden, picking a pink rose from a low shrub as Jasper, Emmett and I walked up the path towards the Masen's front door talking about the new CDs that we'd just bought.

Her long, tanned, firm and shapely legs were bare and she had on the smallest pair of pink and white checked shorts that I'd ever seen. They were so small in fact that the cheeks of her backside showed below them.

The stirring in my jeans made me jerk to an immediate stand-still and stare, open mouthed at the vision of loveliness before me.

Jasper and Emmett chuckled beside me as I gasped loudly and my feet stuttered to less than a shuffle, before they grabbed an arm each as they walked faster, thus forcing me to keep walking before Rosalie noticed.

As she stood upright, she turned around and smiled, and I almost came in my pants before I even knew what cumming felt like…

She was the most beautiful, perfect specimen of girliness that I'd ever seen and, even then, she was a sight for sore eyes.

Stunning in fact.

She had long, thick, slightly wavy lemony-blonde hair that stopped just below her large tits, with creamy unblemished skin and the most intense blue eyes that I'd ever seen, and the tight white top that she was wearing made it uncomfortably obvious that she wasn't wearing a vest… or a bra.

Suddenly, I started trying to find ways to be as close to her as often as possible.

I'd never spent much time near a girl before.

My aunt was tall and bony with no boobs and dressed like she was trying to frighten the opposite sex away. She smelt of alcohol, cigarettes with a pervading musty damp odour and I didn't even want to pass her in the corridor to be honest.

Rosalie, on the other hand, was the total opposite. She smelt soft, clean, pretty, sweet and feminine.

She looked absolutely lovely at all times, and boy could that girl work a crowd and a room.

Sashaying around in skin tight jeans or a miniscule skirt or pair of shorts, she had every male, and even some females, drooling after her, everywhere she went, and she fucking knew it.

She would turn and smile sweetly, and innocently, as she batted her eye lashes and my tongue would almost hit the ground before me, as she pretended to be oblivious to the effect that she was having on me.

Bitch.

She loved to read and could hold her own in any conversation with any age group and on any given subject.

Her parents owned a publishing company so she was well versed in all the latest books and could join in any intellectual discussion often flooring intellectuals with her vastly superior knowledge and opinions.

For the next two years, I was in total awe of her.

On top of all of this, she was uber confident to the point of precocity, verbose and highly critical if things weren't just so.

But she was my friend and despite my semi-permanent – well, no, that's exactly true, what I should have said was, despite my permanent – hard-on, we did actually sit together and have long meaningful discussions.

I loved those times.

Rosalie spent lots of time with Jasper's parents as her own travelled extensively with their business whilst snapping up new and interesting authors for their successful company and people got so used to seeing the three of us together, that they thought that we were related.

When Parents Day loomed large at Eton, when I was fifteen, and after my aunt announced that she couldn't possibly attend - surprise, surprise – there must have been a special offer on some shite jewellery channel or other a rush on the vodka supplies at the local off-license - so the Whitlocks very kindly volunteered to come with me as proxy parents on her behalf.

They wanted to act in loco parentis for me…

I was stunned.

Why would they do that?

No one who shared my blood had ever shown me the level of selfless kindness that they did on a weekly basis.

Once more I had to ask to be excused as I went to my room and shed more than one tear at the level of kindness that they were always willing to show me.

We drove to Eton in their ramshackle, beaten up Range Rover and parked alongside the Rolls Royce Phantoms, Bentleys, Jaguars and Porches. I still felt the wealthiest boy in the whole world because I was there with people who cared for me for the first time in the entire duration that I'd been there.

In her usual inimitable manner, the lovely Rosalie shimmied around the Master's rooms dressed in a loose, white, summer dress with tiny little holes in it that stopped mid-thigh and smiled alluringly at anyone who looked at her.

She was looked at a lot, because frankly, she looked like an angel.

Well, an angel with big tits and a dirty mouth and very obviously with the knowledge of what her body was capable of doing to boys, because, when she stood against a window and the dazzling sunlight lapped around her frame like a total-body halo, it was alarmingly obvious to us all that she had no underwear on... none at all.

Her dark, firm nipples and triangle of pubic hair were visible and I spent the entire visit with a bright red folder covering my bulging crotch.

Her parents, or aunt and uncle either come to that, never seemed to notice her lack of propriety, and she was terribly spoilt and almost worshipped by Esme, her mother, and, it has to be said, even more so by her father, Peter, who thought that the sun shone out of her backside.

All she had to say was "Daddy I want…" and she had it, without any questions being asked.

For her fifteenth birthday, Peter had taken her to Tiffany and told her to pick whatever she wanted.

I wished that I'd been important, on some level at least, to someone who was related to me…

Suddenly overnight, I became extremely popular with the older boys who wanted to meet my 'sister' again outside of the boundaries of school.

Huh.

I wasn't fucking having that, she was MY friend, and I wasn't sharing her, or Jasper, with any of the toe-rags at school.

Pretty much from then on, most of my free time was spent day-dreaming about Rose and what she smelt like, and what her skin felt like. I frequently managed to touch her hand and arm, and oddly enough, she seemed to touch me as often in turn, and, embarrassingly, I'd my first orgasm thinking about her.

Lying on my bed, one Sunday afternoon, with an ecstatic Dotty and Tipsy, I closed my eyes and sighed, as I willed sleep to take me to free me from the mind-numbing boredom.

For the first time in fucking months, I'd had to go back to my aunt's house to get some permission slips signed, before I returned to school that evening. The Whitlocks weren't allowed to sign anything that pertained to school trips or expenditure, only the old harpy was as she was my named next of kin, so, with a heavy heart, I'd taken the underground from their lovely home in Maida Vale. I got off at Finsbury Park, and travelled on the W7 bus to the bottom of fume-filled Muswell Hill dragging my feet reluctantly as I did so.

The second I'd arrived, I was informed that I 'had grown and looked very different' before I was relegated to my room as she was 'entertaining' and was much too busy to deal with me and my school shit, 'right now.'

She had a gaggle of her cronies downstairs, and after the brief and perfunctory chat, I'd been dispatched to my room with a bag of crisps and a chipped cup of tap water so that they could do whatever they were going to do before I'd encroached on their style.

My room smelled stale and uncared for, and sighing, I'd turned my Sex Pistols CD on, twiddling the volume switch up way too loud, before I threw myself on the uncomfortably lumpy, single, damp feeling, bed with the cats snuggling, squiggling and purring around me contentedly.

Sighing, I dug my head backwards into the hard pillow, and inhaling sharply, I closed my eyes, and allowed my mind to wander back to the unbelievable feeling of when Rosalie had unexpectedly and shockingly curled her toes over my cock.

Jesus… it'd felt like I was being electrocuted from the inside out.

Without thinking, I'd yanked my shorts down and immediately shoved my hands inside my tight boxer shorts and slithered my long cool digits down the rock hard length of my cock.

The cats didn't seem especially impressed with my disturbing them, and climbed off of the bed to lie in the corner on a pile of clothes that had been there for God only knows how long whilst I did my thing and just went to sleep, looking thoroughly bored.

As I firmly stroked myself properly for the first time, shuddering at the sensations shooting around my body, I remembered how she had shocked me to the core by touching my cock in the first place, making me almost piss myself with excitement.

When she'd then rubbed her toes against my groin that very morning, I'd almost puked in surprise at the flames of aroused heat that had shot out from my cock and had licked around every part of my body.

Yes, it's safe to say, that it'd been a very strange and very illuminating weekend, all in all.

Arriving at the Whitlock's as usual on Friday evening, we'd then gone to the Under Age Festival in Victoria Park, Hackney, courtesy of Jasper's mum and dad's never ending generosity.

We were all knackered from the partying of the day before and we'd all slept in due to the fact that we hadn't gone to bed until about 2.00 am.

Charlotte and Garrett had picked us up from outside the park gates, taking the four of us with them to Emmett's house for a party to celebrate something or another. We had danced and sang along with the acts all day and were knackered to be honest, so it was a fucking good thing that they had collected us.

Rosalie had worn a white, short sleeved blouse all day, knotted at the waist that flashed a large swathe of deliciously tanned flesh as she moved around, and my fingers had twitched in the desire to touch her to see if she felt as soft as she looked.

Thank fuck I had baggy jeans on, because embarrassingly I had sported wood all-fucking-afternoon, and had to sit under a tree with a bottle of lager for a while because the non-stop erection, along with the red hot sun, had given me a fucking headache.

Relief washed over me when we got out of the car and I could get some distance between us, and I drank several bottles of water to cool myself down as quickly as possible. When I went for a piss, it was a fucking relief to discover that my cock had decided to curl up and gone to sleep for the night, and I trotted down stairs happily, smiling at my tanned, tired, and deeply dishevelled appearance in the hall mirror as I passed by it.

As I entered the room, Rose turned to smile at me and I grinned back, brightly, in the blissful knowledge that the snake in my jeans was still firmly snoring, ignoring her.

Sadly for me, and my cock, Rosalie had other ideas in store for me that evening.

Licking her blood red, painted, full lips, she had turned fully to face me and slowly untied her blouse, before she unbuttoned it, maintaining eye contact with me the entire time.

My mouth dropped open when she peeled that reasonably chaste top off in the middle of the room full of sweaty, swaying bodies, to reveal the tight, minute band of elastic and flowery cotton erroneously called a strapless top, which barely contained her large, pert tits. With the speed that my cock fought to grapple its way out of the zip of my jeans, I was almost brought to my knees and gasped in shock and discomfort as the sensitive head banged against my fly.

Laughing at my reaction, she did a little twirl before she lightly shook her breasts in my direction and then proceeded to gyrate with the boy standing, stunned, in front of her.

Sigh.

She really was a cock-tease par-excellence…

From the corner of the room, I stood, nursing half a shandy that I held firmly in front of my dick all night, and watched her the entire time. Every once in a while she would turn and give me her most dazzling smile, and would bend slightly as she squeezed her tits together, knowing _exactly_ what she was doing to me - and to everyone else with a pair of balls in the room, come to that, as she ground her jean clad backside against some poor, agonised cock.

At the end of the party, Jasper, Rosalie and I curled up around one another in the back of the Whitlock's car, draped in a tartan travel rug.

Jasper and I were pressed back to back and Rose was wrapped around me with her legs over mine and one of her tits was resting on my bicep. We drowsed until we got back to their house. I had to physically drag a loudly snoring, Jasper, out of the car when we arrived back in north west London, and we all staggered up to our respective rooms.

Before I'd even taken my jeans off, I'd collapsed onto my double bed, and fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

Wandering downstairs the next morning, I ran my fingers through my hair, smacking my lips together to try and get the saliva moving on my dry, alcohol induced, thick feeling tongue, yanking my pants up as I did so. All that I had on was a navy blue vest and checked baggy pyjama bottoms as I plonked myself down at the breakfast bar.

Charlotte had made sure that I always had new underwear and nightclothes in the drawers of my chest, so it was only polite to wear them at suitable times.

Too tired to bother with carrying on the teasing and flirting from the night before, I grunted a perfunctory, but polite, good morning greeting to Rosalie who was already sitting at the table drinking orange juice. As I shuffled into my seat, running my fingers through my scruffy hair once again, and, yawning loudly, she turned her legs towards me, smiling and slid her naked, painted toes along my inner thigh before she pressed her bare foot firmly against my crotch.

Stunned to silence, I just stared at her with my mouth hanging open mid-yawn. My cock had shot up so quickly, that I'd been really frightened that the seams in my poor pj's were going to burst as he tried to rip his way to freedom. My head spun in shock and I was terrified that I would pass out from sudden blood loss to the extremities as my breath caught in my throat as her toes wrapped and curled as she slid her foot up and down my erection.

After grinning at my horrified expression as my head did an exorcist-style three hundred and sixty degree turn in my effort to check that we were alone, Rose dropped her foot and pushed her chair back, scraping the floor loudly as she did so.

Getting up slowly, Rosalie ran her tongue over her top lip before she grabbed my chair and spun me around before clasping my knees, forcing them painfully wide apart. Slithering in between my spread thighs, and bending forward, she exposed her impressive cleavage to me and jiggled her tits gently.

Staring at my suddenly tented crotch, she grinned brightly, winked at me, and said, "Oh, Edward, haven't you grown up fast? Aren't you a _very _big boy now? Shame you don't know what a magical thing that you've got hidden in there yet, though, isn't it?" and laughing, she continued somewhat bitchily, "And it's even more of a fucking pity that you don't know what to do with it! If you weren't a friend of the family, I guess I could have had lots of fun teaching you, couldn't I?" she questioned, "Hmmmm… I don't think that my cousin, or aunt, would forgive me if I did that though, do you?" she said, laughing even more loudly.

Before I could fathom out the meaning of her words, she leaned forward, grabbing the back of my head as she did so, rubbed her tits firmly against my face, while at the same time she pressed her upper thigh across my straining erection in little pulsing movements.

As I whimpered and cringed at the over-sensitive sensation, she giggled before pulling back, blowing me a kiss, and said, "I really hope you learn how to handle that thing soon," she continues, "because it's a fucking shameful waste to all the girls, or boys, on the planet!" and, laughing more loudly, she shimmied across the room in a much too short and deliciously tight t-shirt. It showed her full tits and her high, hard nipples, while her tiny pair of bikini knickers exposed her rounded, full bottom beneath their high cut legs.

She did a little twirl for me at the door, raising her arms above her head and making her tits bounce, before, giggling brightly, she went upstairs to get changed.

Fucking bitch.

She had the mind and body of a woman and I was still, mentally, very much a boy inside an almost-man's body.

I was left a quivering, shuddering wreck.

Wheezing and gasping in a rattling breath, I didn't know what to do with myself in my predicament, and my hand instinctively dropped to squeeze the head of my cock, making me whimper lightly as I stroked across the delicate, exposed and pulsating flesh.

So enthralled was I by the breath taking feeling that I didn't hear either the footsteps or the door open, but the second that her mother, Esme, walked into the kitchen, with her aunt and Jasper's mother, Charlotte, I swivelled my chair around to hide my affliction beneath the breakfast bar once more. My cock had shrivelled in fright immediately, and it felt as if both he, and my balls, were trying to crawl their way back inside my humiliated body.

From then on, being the consummate cock tease that she had become towards both me and Emmett, she flirted and touched us whenever we were alone with her.

And I can promise you, it was something that I conspired to happen as often as possible...as did that bastard, Emmett McCarty.

Suddenly, the need to touch myself became a fixation.

A desperate yearning.

An obsessive addiction.

Obviously, I'd poked, yanked, prodded and fiddled about with my cock for years, like all boys do. Pretty much from birth we touch ourselves, but I'd never carried on until I came, because I didn't know much about sex to be honest.

Rosalie had said once, in her usually ladylike manner, that all men are born with their cocks in one hand and a remote control in the other.

Strangely, I didn't disagree with that analogy.

As usual, I didn't get what all the fuss was about when anything emotional was involved, from what I had gleaned, sex, for boys anyway, was nothing but a bodily function.

Stroking and touching myself was enjoyable, obviously, but it felt more safe than erotic, more like holding a favourite toy.

Well, not any fucking longer!

This time, what I felt was very different...

When Rosalie Masen had touched me for the first time, it was like she'd flicked a switch and my cock was permanently hard after that.

As I lay panting loudly on my sagging little bed, one firm stroke of the crown of my cock was all it took and I was whimpering and quivering.

Shaking, I moved my hand up and down my sensitive shaft, pumping several times, stunned by the feelings that this elicited in my body.

My breath hitched and it felt as if an icy electrical current was charging around my hyper sensitive body.

Moving my hand faster I gasped out in shock, because even though it felt good at first, my dry hand was too rough as it dragged the sensitive skin, and despite spitting on my fingers several times, it just wasn't enough.

Leaping to my feet, I rummaged around in my bedside table, wardrobe and chest of drawers, knocking things over in my desperation to find something – anything - to make my hand slippery.

There was NOTHING!

Nothing at all!

Several balls of dust and scraps of torn and discarded tissue were the only bits of detritus that littered the bottom of drawer.

Dashing into my bathroom with my clothing around my ankles, I tripped on the threadbare rug, almost landing on my knees in the process.

Dragging myself upright, I looked in horror as I remembered that I wasn't alone, and stared at the cats who were curled up, fast asleep resolutely ignoring my antics. Breathing a sigh of relief, I don't think I could have continued if those apple green eyes had been observing me, I shuffled into the room and rattled around my meagre and frugal collection of toiletries, but found nothing, apart from spearmint toothpaste, rose scented hand wash and an old, splayed toothbrush.

Shit.

I grabbed the only remaining item in the cracked, mirrored cabinet that hung - at a dangerously jaunty angle - above the sink, some cherry flavoured lip balm.

Muttering about the fact that my tight old bitch of an aunt had even stolen my shampoo and body wash, I hurled myself back onto the hard bed, smeared the gunk over my right palm and grabbed my granite hard erection with my left hand. I was stunned to breathlessness by the electric-shock like feelings that came the moment I closed my fingers around my throbbingly painful erection and gasped at the way the sticky, oily balm felt as I smeared it up and down, gripping more firmly, tugging the fine, delicate flesh up and down with my smooth palm.

Hot, slick, tight – amazing…

If my own hand felt like that, what would Rosalie's - what the hell should I call it? - feel like as I pushed inside?

Vagina?

God no - way too clinical.

Cunt?

Ugh - I hated that word.

Twat?

Nope - silly and crass.

Pussy – Yes - pussy was okay and quite arousing really…

Pussy?

Yes…

Pussy worked for me.

The first thought to cross my mind was, "I wonder if I could make Rosalie's pussy purr?" as my hand began to shake violently.

Building up to a hard and fast pace, I increased my grip. Holding the bit of my cock just below the head, I began to concentrate on yanking that part of my erection, and panting and shuddering as my hand moved faster and faster, my thumb rubbed repeatedly against my fluid filled slit moving my pre-cum around.

Looking down again, I groaned as I yanked faster yet - so fast in fact that it looked almost like a blur my other hand squeezed my bollocks lightly.

"Rose…" I panted out, "Rosalie…let…me… touch me… touch me… Rose…oh… Rose … let me… let me… let …fuck…your…pussy…" I whimpered as my arm moved at a frenetic pace.

Stunned by the tingly pull coming from my balls, I looked down, shocked to see how purple the head had turned and that there was an almost unending stream of sticky liquid pouring from the slit.

As my speed got faster and faster, the sweat began to trickle down my neck and chest and my arm cramped painfully but I continued regardless.

Then, as my heart rate increased, and my breathing became laboured and embarrassingly loud, the feeling changed to an almost aching burn as every muscle, tendon and ligament clenched and bunched in my endeavours.

The feeling built and built until my vision blurred, and shuddering, burning, tingling fingers of …something… raced around my frazzled nerve endings. Arching my back up off of the bed, gasping in a sharp breath, before I yelled out loudly into the silence of my room as my other hand cupped my balls that were now shrivelled and pulled up close to my quivering body.

"Rose! Rose! Rose! Rosalieeeee! Rose! Rosalieeeeeeeeeeeee … Rosalieeee…" I chanted as I lost the ability to focus.

My heart was almost leaping out of my chest, and I thought I was about to die as I stopped breathing and bright lights exploded in front of my wide, staring eyes. The ecstatic feeling of euphoria and unbelievable – something – made me shudder violently as electrical currents exploded out of the end of my cock as I came so hard and fast that my cum shot out of my shaking, convulsing body in a high arc, splashing off the wardrobe mirror six feet from my bed with a resonating and sharply tinkling splat.

Fuck.

The sound was so loud that I thought that I'd broken the glass at first.

Shocked to the core by what had just happened, I couldn't quite believe that my body was capable of feeling so much. I had spent the previous fifteen years feeling numb and deliberately fighting emotions, and this was almost too much for me to bear.

Gasping and panting, I curled up in a tight ball, and I lay, quivering and whimpering, for the longest time, before I wrapped myself up in the old faded, musty smelling, quilt, to try to stop my teeth from chattering.

And then the tears began before my exhausted body relaxed into an endorphin induced deep slumber.

Eventually I woke up, feeling bewildered and disorientated as the witch banged on my, thankfully, locked door telling me that it was time for me to wake up so that she could sign the forms and I could leave.

Shaking, I'd staggered to my feet on quivering, weakened knees and tried to recompose myself.

After washing and getting dressed, I'd half-heartedly attempted to tidy up my mess.

Straightening my bed, I began rubbing a grubby old sock, that must have lain under my bed for months, over the wood and mirror, trying to soak up my splattered cum.

Still shocked at the distance and height that my body had shot it's load across the room, I curled my lip as I looked at the smeared opaque shit that covered the glass, wood and wool. It had already started to dry and was sticky and difficult to remove; a bit like spreading honey around. The fluff covered sock was obviously not a good enough piece of fabric to clean it properly with.

When I returned to her home on my next visit, several months later for more paperwork to be signed, I was bollocked out due to the fact that my aunt's cleaner had tried for weeks to get the "glue" off the glass, wood and cheap nylon carpet. They both repeatedly remonstrated with me for spilling my air fix glue in my room and from then on, my 'hobby' was taken to the garage where I was given a bench and a few shelves. Little did she know that the three kits she'd bought me since I'd moved in with her, from second hand shops, remained unopened and gathering dust-balls beneath my saggy mattress.

On the rare visits to her house, I just used a towel to catch my spurting cum from then on, as I did at the Whitlocks - and they were all happily oblivious to my burgeoning obsession with my own body.

After that amazing occasion where I discovered exactly the level of pleasure that I could inflict on my balls and drag from my own cock, I masturbated several times a day. I never tired of it and I wanked, and had wet dreams, on way too many occasions to remember, to memories of activities, or photographs of Rosalie.

Rosalie and her curvy, voluptuous teenage body poured into one of her many, highly inappropriate bikinis that consisted of three minute triangles so small that I knew for a fact that she waxed.

Rosalie wearing tiny shorts and t-shirts that were so tight, they looked as if they'd been sprayed onto her beautiful tits, whilst lounging on the deck of her parent's boat.

Sigh.

Rosalie on the veranda of their summer house in Cornwall.

And the very best and most erection producing vision of all - Rosalie on the beach of the Whitlock's house on the Isle of Wight, where she would sprawl out on the rocks, or sandy beach, sunbathing topless with her shapely legs flat out and spread widely apart, exposing her barely covered pussy to our hungry eyes.

Rosalie.

Rosalie.

Rosalie.

Rosalie.

Rosalie.

Sigh…

One night, not long after my first Rosalie induced orgasm, Jasper, Emmett and I were in his tree house listening to music and drinking cans of chilled Guinness, when an irritating creaking, squeaking noise, punctuated with groaning, from below us in the garden, caught our attention.

Scowling at one another, we inched our way as quietly as possible on the outside part of the tree house, and peered over the edge, and as my eyes almost popped out of my head, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from gasping out loud because we were all stunned to silence at the sight below us.

Emmett and Jasper's friend, Alec, was sitting on the swing that was attached to the same tree, with Rosalie astride his spread, bare thighs, and with her long, perfect legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

Her skirt was pulled up but the way it was bunched meant that you couldn't see what they were doing but his jeans were around his ankles and his head was up her top.

Rage built up inside me like an erupting volcano – well - more like a small sparkler to be honest, aggression has never really been my thing, not really - at the thought that his face was either near or touching her amazing tits.

The way that the swing was moving erratically and frantically snapped my attention back to their motions and I watched, transfixed, as Rose's hands snaked upwards to hang onto the ropes and she thrust her now naked and remarkable tits up towards us again and again as Alec yanked her blouse off of her shoulders.

As his mouth fixed onto one of the rosy nipples that tip her large, rounded breasts, she moaned and whimpered as her body began to jerk in response to his ministrations and I had an instant erection at the sight of her writhing body and naked flesh.

Fuck…

Even the memory of that night makes me hard.

Shit.

All of a sudden, a gasping Alec cried out loudly, sounding agonised as he did so, and the night creatures in the garden around us fell silent instantly in fright.

"What the fuck is she doing to him?" I asked, horrified, as I turned to look at a hysterically laughing Jasper and Emmett who were vibrating with laughter, confused.

She obviously heard me, because as I looked back down towards her, she threw her head back causing her lovely hair to flutter around her shoulders and she stared directly into my eyes.

Licking her lips and smiling at me as she did so, she bounced up and down a little bit faster as she dug her nails into the ropes, she thrust her tits higher before her eyes unfocused, rolled in their sockets, and she began to shake and whimper above Alec as she jerked and thrust against him.

Wow.

I left my gob open for so long, that a thin trail of saliva dribbled from my lip onto the decking. They both stifled their laughter as they dragged me back inside the wooden structure, closed the hatch and burst out laughing as they pissed themselves in absolute hysterics.

"What the fuck do you think she's doing to him, Edward?" Emmett sniggered. "She's riding that fucker's cock! That's what she's doing!" he said.

"What?" I said feeling shocked, "What do you mean?" I asked, disbelievingly.

"Oh come on, Edward!" Jasper exclaimed, "She's fucking the lucky fucker's brains out, that's what! He's wanted her for years and now he thinks he's got her, she won't speak to him again! She's a fucking bitch like that to boys!" he laughed out loudly.

"Are you serious? Do you mean that they're… ?" I said, unable to finish the sentence.

"Yep," Emmett said, smugly, as he folded his arms.

"You mean… fuck… you mean that they're having _SEX_?" I stammered out.

"Yep," Jasper said, nonchalantly, nodding and smiling as he copied Emmett and folded his arms too.

"And you mean that Rose isn't… she isn't… fuck… are you saying that Rosalie isn't a _virgin?_" I gasped out, stunned.

The fact that instead of acting my age, I acted more like my shoe size is something that I've never lived down, right up to this day.

Jasper knew of my fixation with his cousin, of course, and many a hot and sweaty afternoon was spent hiding in the dry, gritty dunes in either of the holiday resorts, munching on sandwiches laced with wind-blown sand and either looking upwards at the flying kites, wanking as we did so, or watching Rosalie laying amongst the course grass, sunbathing topless, also wanking as we did so.

On many of these outings, the three of us wanked simultaneously to see who could come quickest and furthest as we imagined what it would feel like to have her hands on us.

Now I knew for certain that she wasn't a virgin, my obsession became an all-consuming passion, and every time I wanked, I imagined that I was buried deeply inside her.

Shit.

We used to get rulers and tape measures out to see who had the biggest cock at regular intervals, though in all honesty, I always beat them hands down. They were both fascinated by the size of my cock and watched it in abject fascination as I played with myself.

The suntan lotion that Charlotte, Jasper's mum, or Esme, his aunt, insisted that we always take with us acted as a fucking amazing aid to a hard and fast hand job.

As you can no doubt tell, we wanked very often in those days.

Rosalie must have found it all quite stimulating herself because her nipples always seemed to be hard, and when I said, without thinking, one day, that they looked like raspberries, they both took the piss out of me constantly and even started calling her 'Raspberry Rose.'

She had no fucking idea what we were talking about, obviously, but she seemed to think that it had something to do with the naturally deep pink colour of her lips – thank fuck she didn't know the truth or I would have been wearing my big cock as a feather boa once she had finished with me!

Looking back, I think she always knew we were there, watching her surreptitiously, because every now and then she would rub her hands across her naked breasts or would roll over and wiggle her bum, before she tugged the edges of her bikini bottoms up into the crack of her arse, exposing her round, pale orb-like cheeks to our desperately needy eyes.

Sigh.

Ogling his own cousin seems a bit weird looking back now, even to me now, I guess, but I've come to the conclusion that teenage boys are perverted little fuckers, and when we grow up, we're no different, just less honest in many cases.

In a strange turn of event, Rosalie has been dating Emmett's friend, Tarquin, for the last six months and so he gets to experience - every day - what we'd spent year's perving about.

The most emotionally draining part of my life was, in fact, that after belonging to a loving, caring, adopted family for the weekend, every Sunday evening, I would go back to Eton and live a totally different life altogether…

…**ooOoo….**

**RUNNING OFF TO HIDE BEHIND THE CURTAINS WITH MY INCONTINENCE KNICKERS ON TO RESTRICT THE NERVOUS BLADDER REFLEX THAT MAKES ME WANT TO PEE UNCONTROLLABLY!**

**EEEEEEEEK! **

**BE NICE TO ME!**


	3. Chapter 3

**M+++++M+++++M+++++M+++++M+++++M+++++M+++++M+++++M++++++**

**= D!**

…**ooOoo…**

**HELLO ONCE AGAIN.**

**WOW.**

**I'M SO GLAD THAT MOST OF YOU GOT THE MEANING BEHIND IT, KNOWING THAT HE IS SO HURT AND DAMAGED BY HIS AWFUL FAMILY, SO THAT WHEN HE MEETS BELLA, THE WAY HE FEELS ABOUT HER TAKES HIM BY SUCH SURPRISE THAT HIS WHOLE WORLD, AS HE KNOWS IT, COMES CRASHING DOWN AROUND HIS EARS.**

**THIS IS A VERY DIFFERENT THING FOR ME TO ATTEMPT, BECAUSE OF THE CONTENT AND THE LACK OF HUMOUR, AND I WAS BEYOND THRILLED WITH THE REACTION.**

**PLEASE REMEMBER THAT HE'S REMEMBERING HIS PAST, AND BECAUSE OF HOW PAINFUL AND DIFFICULT IT WAS, IT WON'T COME OUT IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER BECAUSE WE AREN'T WRITING IN A DIARY OR JOURNAL. HE IS A VERY DAMAGED MAN AND WAS SO IGNORED AND NEGLECTED AS A CHILD, THAT HIS THOUGHTS AND MEMORIES WILL COME OUT AS A JUMBLED, RAMBLING MESS, SO BE NICE!**

**IT IS A VERY DIFFERENT STORY TO ****ISABELLA SWAN, SUBMISSIVE****, AND ALTHOUGH IT WILL EVENTUALLY RUN PARALLEL TO ISS, IT WILL OBVIOUSLY BE COMPLETELY DIFFERENT BECAUSE IT'S FROM A MAN'S POINT OF VIEW AND THE THOUGHT OF WRITING TWO IDENTICAL STORIES DOESN'T APPEAL TO ME AT ALL, FRANKLY.**

**ONCE AGAIN, I DON'T OWN TWILIGHT, THE KIND AND CHARITABLE STEPHANIE MEYER DOES. I TRULY AM VERY GRATEFUL TO HER FOR PERMITTING US TO USE HER CHARACTERS NAMES. THE STORY, HOWEVER, BELONGS TO ME IN ITS ENTIRETY.**

**I MAY NOT OWN TWILIGHT, BUT I DO, HOWEVER, OWN THREE CATS OF MY OWN, PLUS SEVEN OTHERS WHO NEED ME, AND SO MANY SEX TOYS THAT I THINK I SHOULD BE AWARDED SHARES IN DURACELL FREE AND GRATIS!**

**KATY DAZZLEDBYTHE CULLENS, FOR BEING THE WIFEY, I THANK YOU! **

**IF YOU'RE UNDER 18, OR ARE OF A SENSITIVE DISPOSITION, WALK AWAY. THIS STORY IS FOR ADULTS ONLY AS IT CONTAINS STRONG SEXUAL CONTENT – SLASH, HETEROSEXUAL, VANILLA AS WELL AS BDSM—AND THERE ARE PASSING REFERENCES TO DRUGS, ALCOHOL AND MENSTRUATION. IF THEY AREN'T YOUR BAG, BABY, CLICK TO ANOTHER PAGE!**

**PLEASE REMEMBER THAT THE AGE OF CONSENT FOR FULL SEX, BOTH HETEROSEXUAL AND HOMOSEXUAL, IS SIXTEEN, IN THE UNITED KINGDOM. MOST TEENAGE BOYS, AND MANY GIRLS, EXPERIMENT LONG BEFORE THAT SO THINK BACK TO YOUR OWN EARLY FUMBLINGS WHEN READING THIS AND PLEASE DON'T JUDGE TOO HARSHLY!**

_**EVERYTHING IN THIS STORY IS EITHER INITIATED BY EDWARD OR IS TOTALLY WITH HIS CONSENT.**_

_**PLEASE REMEMBER THAT BEFORE YOU JUDGE HARSHLY!**_

**THIS CHAPTER IS PRETTY MUCH ONE, LONG, NON-STOP LEMON AND IS BASED ON THE FUMBLING DISCOVERIES OF A MID-TEENAGE BOY.**

**PLEASE BE KIND…**

**ONCE MORE, THIS STORY WILL BE UPDATED AS AND WHEN, THERE IS NO SET TIMESCALE AND WON'T BE A FORTNIGHTLY THING. TO SWAP BACKWARDS AND FORWARDS TO THEIR POINTS OF VIEW KILLS ME MENTALLY AND I LOSE MY MOJO FOR WEEKS! IT IS, IN MANY WAYS, EASIER WRITING FROM HIS POINT OF VIEW – STRANGE, BUT TRUE – BUT TO CLICK BACK TO HER INSANITY IS REALLY DIFFICULT!**

**I PROUDLY, AND VERY NERVOUSLY, PRESENT :**

**IRRIDESCENT**

**CHAPTER THREE**

"_**When you were standing in the wake of devastation  
when you were waiting on the edge of the unknown  
with the cataclysm raining down, insides crying save me now  
you were there and possibly alone.**_

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation  
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known  
remember all the sadness and frustration  
and let it go, let it go.

And in the burst of light that blinded every angel  
as if the sky had blown the heavens into stars  
you felt the gravity of temper grace falling into empty space  
no one there to catch you in their arms  


_**Do you feel cold and lost in desperation  
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known  
remember all the sadness and frustration  
and let it go, let it go.**_

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation  
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known  
remember all the sadness and frustration  
and let it go,

let it go  
let it go  
let it go  
let it go

Do you feel cold and lost in desperation  
you build up hope, but failure's all you've known  
remember all the sadness and frustration  
and let it go, let it go."

…**ooOoo….**

_**BEFORE I BEGIN, PLEASE, PLEASE REMEMBER THAT THIS IS SET IN THE UNITED KINGDOM AND THE AGE OF CONSENT HERE, FOR BOTH HETEROSEXUAL AND HOMOSEXUAL SEX IS 16. BOTH BOYS AND GIRLS USUALLY DABBLE FAR EARLIER SO BEFORE YOU GETS PISSED OFF WITH ME, THIS IS NORMAL BEHAVIOUR IN MY COUNTRY!**_

_**PHEW!**_

…**.ooOoo…..**

**PREVIOUSLY**

**In a strange turn of event, Rosalie has been dating Emmett's friend, Tarquin, for the last six months and so he gets to experience—every day—what we'd spent year's perving about.**

**The most emotionally draining part of my life was, in fact, that after belonging to a loving, caring, adopted family for the weekend, every Sunday evening, I would go back to Eton and live a totally different life altogether…**

…**..…ooOoo…**

From the age of fourteen, even before my Rosalie fixation had developed fully, and hidden from my real life friends, I had brief fumbling flings with both boys and girls, but after I gave myself my first orgasm, I was unstoppable!

The touch of a hand anywhere on my body felt alien and foreign at first, and I pulled back, shocked and repulsed, but the warmth that emitted from their palm soon became addictive and I enjoyed both touching, and being touched, after the first couple of occasions.

And although it did feel very nice, and we all indulged whenever we could, we didn't really do anything very much to one another, except to have the occasional grope of arses and tits over clothes and pressed closed lips together in very puerile attempts at kissing – so in reality, it was what it was – childish and very chaste.

And the sad and pathetic fact was that any physicality of any kind was most welcome, as I'd spent my first fourteen years without being touched in any way shape or form, other than to be pushed away by my father.

But afterwards…

Well, put it this way, afterwards things were VERY different…

Afterwards, I was like a randy Duracell rabbit on acid and would I hump my own hand at any given moment in time.

Within days, and as if by magic, I had dozens of 'friends' who wanted to spend time with me, be with me, listen to me, and talk to me.

Well… 'friends' who wanted to 'talk to me' might just be stretching the euphemism a wee bit… suck my tongue and grope my cock over my trousers, or even wank me off, was nearer the truth in all honesty, but it still meant that I had companionship every day.

Some of the time this was overwhelming because I was so used to my own company and at least twice a week, I would lock myself away in my room, ignoring the incessant knocking on the door by some horny prefect or other, and pretend that I wasn't there.

I remember my first open mouthed kiss. It was with Tim, one of the prefects and we were doing our usual closed lip kissing whilst he pulled and tugged at my cock. I gasped when he touched a particularly sensitive spot and he took this as a sign to shove his tongue into my mouth. When I felt the way that our tongues brushed and stroked against each other, I almost came on the spot.

As I jerked into his hand, he grabbed the sides of my head and kissed me frantically and desperately, before he spat on his hand and wanked my cock hard and fast. We both gasped and laughed hysterically as I splattered his usually pristine uniform with my hot cum as he kissed me again before I returned the favour and made him cum, but I managed to make sure that he soiled his own uniform, rather than mine.

However pathetic it might sound now, I was overwhelmed by the warmth of his touch as our mouths moved against one another, and despite the fact that it felt good, sexually, it felt almost as good just to know just that I was being touched by another person.

The desire to cum, by whatever means, took over my cohesive thoughts and I would happily wank in front of anyone who wanted to watch me do so for visual stimulation, and was more than content to let them join in as well.

Overnight, my cock and balls became my plaything of choice – and everyone else's to be honest, or so it would seem anyway – and I struggled, actually, to focus on anything other than the feeling of ecstasy that washed over me whenever I came.

I'd never found anything but the endorphin rush of sport that could make my hyper-alert brain switch off before. But even that overwhelming gush of adrenalin paled into insignificance when compared to the feeling of total and utter euphoria that washed over me at the point of orgasm.

I was a fifteen year old boy, for fuck sake, with a hard on pretty much twenty four seven, and I would wank so often, not to mention, so hard and fast, that sometimes my cock actually hurt from all the self-inflicted abuse!

This worrying fact made me very aware that spit and lip salve alone weren't enough to aid my hand movements. After asking around, a few of the boys told me that they either spat on their hand repeatedly or used Vaseline.

My preference was the latter, because spit just didn't do it for me. I used so many pots of the fucking stuff over the months, that I had the softest hands and cock in all of Christendom… And put it this way, I spent so much money on the gloopy, translucent shit that I should have used some of my meagre allowance to buy shares in fucking Unilever.

It was nothing for me to masturbate four or five times a day and then again in bed at night, often spraying up the wallpaper as I came, and more often than not, I would rush back to my room after lessons to rub one out before I did my homework and extracurricular activities.

My sleep was frequently disturbed as I would wake up in the middle of the night to tug and yank my permanently hard dick. Grunting, I would cum all over my hand or boxer shorts, before I passed out for another few, hopefully erection-free hours, only to have to repeat the entire process when I woke up with a ram rod straight, rock hard, leaking dick all over again.

Sigh.

As the months passed, my weekends with the Whitlock and Masen clans became more important than ever to me as the bonds of friendship grew ever tighter between the three of us, but I still needed to find some alone time to be at one with ever my ever rigid, throbbing cock.

It became a bit of a chore at times because it was always fucking hard, and usually at the most inopportune moments, too. And on top of this, my craving for Jasper's fragrant cousin became ever greater. I found that I could be quite furtive in my attempts to find time to be alone with the ever more alluring and stimulating Rosalie just so that I could leer at her.

It was all encompassing and I even found myself making plans mid-week as to how to set up scenarios between the two of us.

How pathetic was that?

Looking back, I can't believe how fucking sad I was and how fucking cruel she was with her incessant teasing and tempting.

After watching her fucking Jasper's friend on the swing that night, and seeing her tits properly for the first time away from the beach, my obsession for her became all that I could think about, day and night.

I wanked to that memory _every-fucking-time _and even I began to worry myself with the depths of my desperation for her.

After trying to be slightly surreptitious in my nosiness about what had indeed happened on her night of passion with Alec, it became apparent that it was indeed a one off event. He was devastated that she didn't want any more with him, and continued to follow her around at every given opportunity. She treated him with complete and utter contempt, and it was only a matter of weeks before Rosalie moved on to her next conquest.

But sadly, that was never me.

Sigh.

She did, however, start to wear even tighter, shorter, smaller and more inappropriate clothing in front of me, and virtually every time that she stayed over at Charlotte and Garrett's house, she would wander passed my open bedroom door in her bra and knickers to the family bathroom, despite the fact that she had an en suite in the guest room.

Bitch.

Her writhing orgasm will be forever burned into my retinas and I can't tell you how many times I've cum over the years by merely remembering the flushed tone of her skin and her panting gasps as her tits bounced frantically as she hung off the ropes of the moving seat and groaned through her release.

Shit.

Jasper and Emmett found this fixation with Rosalie hysterically funny, and took the piss out of me at all times about my ever hard cock. Lucky old Emmett didn't have to deal with this kind of problem himself because he was fucking one of his mother's friends – a woman in her mid-thirties – and so he was alright since his every need was being seen to – and Jasper never seemed to have a problem with dealing with his cock or keeping it under control.

Bastard.

At one point, I had begun to wonder if there was something wrong with me, and of course my fucking insatiable_ fucking_ cock! The fact that it was hard all of the time did worry me a bit and made PE lessons somewhat embarrassing at times.

Thank _FUCK_ my school was a boys only establishment and I didn't have to try and hide my massive appendage from girls because, frankly, I could have been arrested for indecent exposure.

It was bad enough that at the mere sight of a cock or naked arse, my treacherous and sodding traitorous prick would raise its head heavenwards.

Can you imagine what it would have been like if there had been the briefest possibility of seeing a pussy or a pair of jiggling tits?

Shit…

That didn't even bear thinking about.

I would have had to have resorted to jerking off in the middle of the classroom and would have been arrested for indecency!

The only shining light in the midst of all of this humiliation was that it's constant hard state certainly got me the attention of the other boys and of some of the PE Master's too, come to that. I became so used to it always threatening to poke out of the elastic waist of my shorts or boxers, that after a few months of attempting to hide my semi-permanent erection behind my outspread hands, I gave up trying and let it all hang out – so to speak!

At weekends, however, visiting Jasper's family became a tricky exercise in attempting to remain at least ostensibly normal. So I took to wearing baggier clothing than ever and managed to convince everyone – apart from the ever piss-taking Jasper and Emmett – obviously – that I was merely following a fashion, rather than the fact that I needed to find a way to hide my prick from people with a sensitive disposition.

Tight boxer shorts and swimming trunks usually managed to keep it bound and trapped during daylight hours, but the second that I yanked them down at the end of the day, and clambered under hot, streaming water, it would burst free and hug itself to my body, and weep all over my stomach like a long lost fucking friend, seeking comfort.

Sigh.

One Sunday morning, however, I had staggered downstairs looking for some orange juice and had inadvertently left my cock completely unfettered – somewhat foolishly as it soon transpired – as I sauntered into the utility room to dispatch my stiffening, cum splattered underwear and pyjamas straight into the machine so that poor Charlotte didn't have to touch them, and gasped at the sight before my weary eyes.

I almost broke a testicle and I skidded to a halt as – lo and behold – there in front of me, once again, was the object of my wet dreams and desperate humping desires. She was leaning over the open washing machine, fumbling about with her backside high in the air. Her legs were straight and her arse looked firm and proudly displayed for my delectation.

Her hair and skin glowed with an almost honeyed, golden sheen as the late morning sun landed on her from the utility room's windows and I almost spazzed in my shorts at the thought of trailing my tongue up and down her hard, yet soft, looking thighs.

Saliva had pooled in my mouth and my heart began to race frantically at the sight in front of me and my fingers twitched desperately.

And my cock?

Fuck…

The way that my cock had shot upwards was so violent that I almost fainted from loss of blood to my extremities as I stared in disbelief at the vision of loveliness before me. My balls burned and tingled and my breath hitched in my throat as my eyes roamed her body and came to rest on the two dimples that sat low down on her back, or high up on her arse, whichever you preferred. The arse description was my favourite…

The speed of my instantaneous erection meant that he almost broke the record for the world's most instantaneous hard on, and I whimpered loudly now, unable to hold back this time, as the rough seam of my pyjama bottoms dragged along the exposed, but still dry, head of my desperate prick.

Fuck.

She was wearing a thing that I now know is called a thong, but at the time I had no fucking idea what it was and why anyone would have a dental floss-like piece of lace wedged between their arse cheeks, but whatever the reason, frankly I didn't give a flying fuck.

Deciding that whoever had designed that particularly _fuck hot_ piece of lingerie was a fucking hero of mine, I licked my lips and fought to contain the groan that threatened to burst out of my mouth. I wanted to trail my fingers and tongue along the aforementioned strip of white fabric and my flexible digits twitched and my mouth watered as I stared at her smooth, unblemished, rounded, creamy flesh.

Her beautiful shiny hair spilled down her back and hung heavily over her shoulders, in luxuriously messy curls and tendrils and I wanted to touch her so badly that I had to dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands to hold myself back from running across the room and grabbing her.

Shit.

Turning slowly to grin at me, Rose's eyes fell instantly to my cock and she licked her lips as she tugged her sorry excuse for a top, down towards her waist so that her tits were more exposed than ever.

Fuck.

This only served to make it look even tighter across her boobs and her dark nipples showed hard and large through the fine cotton, and once more, I groaned as I stared at them – her vast cleavage was truly a thing of beauty and the only thing missing from this scene of delight was the thought that I would like my aforementioned cock to be wedged between them.

Her top was totally ludicrous but was, to me, the most perfect piece of material in the history of mankind in its smallness, tightness and opaqueness! It looked like a narrow bandage that had been stretched across her firm, high, very large breasts, and as I stared at them, her nipples hardened even more before my eyes.

Holy fuck!

Without a word, she sashayed her rounded hips and she brushed past me, turning her body in a complete circle as she did so, ensuring that her abdomen made contact with my now leaking cock as she did so.

Stopping in front of me, she turned fully and pressed her soft, warm, sweet smelling body against my desperate one.

"You know, Edward," she said, as she lightly trailed a fingernail across my rapidly rising chest, "I think that when you actually get a grip on what to do with that enormous thing that refuses to stay hidden in your pants," she continued as she rotated her pelvis against me, "You might just be quite a fucking catch… or at least a fucking good fuck…" she said, staring at my mouth, before she licked her lips and backed away, giggling as she skipped across the kitchen floor. "Let's talk in a couple of years, when you're legal!" she whispered loudly from the doorway, before she disappeared from my line of vision.

I stood for the longest time unable to move as the memory of the way her lovely body felt and smelled as it was pressed against mine. The image of hard nipples and slightly bouncing arse cheeks that were now forever burned into my brain made my cock stream a steady trail of pre-cum as I stared at the doorway, shaking and inhaling heavily.

Unable to control my overwhelming, natural urges, panting in heaving breaths, I dropped to my knees, put one hand down inside my pants, and grabbed my cock so firmly, that I almost stopped the blood supply, and shoved my other hand and head inside the washing machine, frantically rummaging around.

Yanking my hand back out, I pulled several scraps of fabric with it and held them up before my disbelieving eyes. The small, lacy, jewel coloured items were very obviously several more of Rosalie's thongs and I shuddered at the thought of which part of her body they had hugged closely.

Staring at them hungrily, I couldn't make my mind up which one to keep – red, green, orange, black or pink… decisions, decisions!

Whimpering loudly, I hastily threw them all – all that is, apart from a bright red pair – back inside the washing machine, and I stroked my finger along the soiled, miniscule cotton crotch, before I nervously raised it to my face and inhaled deeply.

Holy fuck.

Sweet, musky, rich… but subtle… I didn't know which adjectives to use first to best describe her odour, and frankly I didn't give a fuck because the surge of lust that shot through my body as I smelled Rosalie's unique scent almost finished me off as my head spun through lack of oxygen and my eyes rolled back in my head as I tried to drag in a shaky breath.

My cock was harder than I'd ever known it be before – so hard, actually, that I fucking hurt and my balls ached with need – and I jerked my erection so frantically inside the soft fabric of my pyjama bottoms. Gasping as my arm moved faster and harder, I groaned loudly as I pressed the underwear more firmly against my nose, and as I daringly trailed my quivering tongue along the crotch, I lost my shit immediately and came loudly and dramatically – in shuddering ropes of jizz – inside of my clothing.

My vision blurred as my eyes rolled back in their sockets, and lights exploded before my eyes as I held my breath until the last vestiges of orgasm left my shaking body.

Panting and gasping in much needed air, I dropped back down onto my haunches, keeping my legs widely spread as my cum started to cool all over my shaking legs and I tried to compose myself again.

Sweat was trickling down my neck and back as I gasped and heaved in air and closed my eyes, allowing my head to drop backwards.

Without warning, my attention was snapped back to reality as I suddenly heard voices floating through the open kitchen and utility room windows from somewhere outside in the garden.

My blood froze in my veins as panic over took me and I dropped forwards on my hands and knees and crawled towards one of the windows to see who the hell was out there.

If anyone caught me in this state – flushed, breathless, exhausted and with soaking wet pyjama bottoms, on my knees in a highly inappropriate state – having very obviously just wanked all over their utility room floor – I would be sent away in disgrace, never to be allowed to set foot in their home again after so rudely using their niece as a masturbatory aid.

Raising my eyes above the windowsill, I blinked – horrified – and watched – appalled – as Charlotte and Rosalie sat themselves down at the large wooden table on the patio, and placed a tray on the surface.

Charlotte bustled about, removing all the shit from the tray and placed cutlery, plates, napkins and crap on the table before she propped the tray somewhere below my eye level, as she yakked away to her beloved niece.

After pouring their beverage into bright china mugs, they sat, drinking steaming cups of coffee, in the mid-morning sun whilst Rose buttered hot toast and piled spoonful's of thick, bright, glistening marmalade onto it, as she rolled her shoulders inwards causing her already stunning cleavage to lengthen exponentially.

Fuck it all.

Lifting my head, stupidly, higher so that I could get a better look at her tits, I gasped as I stared at her greedily.

Her tits bulged above the plunging neckline of her cotton top as she leaned forwards further, and, without warning, she turned her eyes to mine and smirked as she slowly and deliberately started to lick the sticky jam off of her middle finger, before she sucked it all the way into her mouth, and pulled it out again, repeatedly, mock fucking her mouth, whilst her aunt poured herself another cup of coffee, totally oblivious to her niece's inappropriate behaviour or my presence.

Fucking bitch!

Since our brief encounter earlier, Rosalie had pulled on a tiny pair of denim shorts that barely covered the cheeks of her arse, and had left the top button undone. Her face was scrubbed clean and was devoid of all make-up and she had on a skin-tight white t-shirt with an almost obscenely low neck. She was still braless and at the sight of those erect nipples, my fucking cock began to raise its throbbing, wet head again.

Not again!

Not here!

And most fucking definitely, not now!

As she winked at me and trailed her bright pink tongue slowly and suggestively along her bottom lip, I instinctively dropped lower and lay completely flat on my belly on the cold floor, thus removing myself from their sight.

The bloody bitch had known all along that I'd been watching her.

The cum on the inside of sleep pants was now icy cold and felt disgusting as I slid across the tiled floor like some sort of fake commando action man, or GI Joe, doll. I stood up, holding onto the door frame for much needed support, gasping in shaking breaths, trying to calm my breathing, before I shoved Rosalie's knickers inside my top and with a cursory backward glance, I ran up the stairs back to my room. I yanked my ruined bottoms off and jumped into the shower, where I fucked my hand two more times before I could get the insatiable bastard to stay quiet for a little while and give me an hours peace.

The scary thing was that I just knew that there was a slithery path from where I had crawled, dragging and trailing my own cum, across the pristine floor – and just prayed to fucking God that it dried before they returned to the kitchen.

Ugh.

This soon became the pattern of my life.

Every time I was anywhere near Rose, I would steal a piece of her used clothing, preferably a bra or a pair of knickers, to use as a masturbatory aid for the week. After wanking on them, in them and over them for five solid days and nights, I would then return the heavily soiled, totally stiff, revolting little item to the laundry basket on a Friday evening, or horribly early on a Saturday morning, before anyone could see what I was up to.

I had a little section underneath the solid bottom of my weekend bag where I hid some of her used underwear every weekend. I used to pat myself on the back for my sneaky ingenuity at never being caught or even suspected in my furtive escapades.

However cunning I was, it soon transpired that I wasn't the only one using Rosalie and her scraps of lace to fuel my night time endeavours…

Oh no, I wasn't alone AT ALL...

…**..ooOoo…**

One Sunday morning, in late summer when I was fifteen, Rosalie came flying into the kitchen and flung a handful of her almost non-existent underwear onto the table.

She was bare foot with her hair pulled up into a sloppy, messy pony tail, and had no make-up on. She looked like she'd just fallen out of bed and yanked on the first clothes she could grab. At that thought, my cock twitched, just imagining her crumpled sheets that would still be warm from where her unctuous body had lain on them. Shit. We'd all been to a party together the night before and she had disappeared for a few hours with one of Emmett's friends and her neck was covered in love bites as a result.

Sighing, knowing that she'd been freshly fucked the night before, I looked at her surreptitiously from beneath my eyelashes as she hopped up and down in anger.

She looked beautiful, and was wearing skin tight, low rise jeans that showed inches and inches of undulating flesh, and she had a very fitted, long sleeved pink t-shirt on, and as usual, she wasn't wearing a bra.

This was obvious because, as she stood, all but vibrating in rage, her tits jiggled like two firm jellies, complete with hard cherries on the top, beneath the clinging cotton and my cock stood to attention immediately.

Sigh.

I was only wearing khaki coloured cargo shorts and a sand vest top, but at least the shorts were reasonably loose – hopefully loose enough to hide my fucking massive erection …

She was scarlet with rage as she clenched her fists tightly by her sides, and growled at us as her nostrils flared in her building temper.

As she had flown into the room, Emmett, Jasper and I were interrupted in the midst of our discussion. We were sitting at the aforementioned table, having a sandwich and a glass of milk and were laughing at Arsenal's latest risible transfer choices as we listened to his favourite Blur album as it blasted out loudly on the CD player.

Confused, all three of us stopped and stared at her, scowling, but without saying a word, as she let rip. "Just answer me-one-fucking-thing, you bunch of manky little fuckers…" she said, reasonably calmly, before she inhaled deeply and lowered her voice so that we could barely hear her over the loud music, "_Exactly WHICH one of you fucking perverted little bastards has been wanking off over my dirty knickers? Huh? Answer me!" she_ hissed out barely audibly.

She was so angry that she was florid in the face and was visibly shaking in her attempt to stand reasonably still.

Fuck.

My eyes almost popped out of their sockets, and my cheeks burned with embarrassment as I instantly lowered my eyes and started playing with the crumbs that were left over on my white plate with the pad of my index finger.

Fuck.

Caught out...

And for a moment, I really thought that that was it.

Game over.

This would be my last weekend with Jasper after this unforgiveable breach of trust and that I would be cast out into the night… well, not exactly night – because it was a bright, sunny day – but you know what I mean.

"WELL?" she yelled. "TELL ME RIGHT—FUCKING – NOW!" she began barking out, "TELL ME! TELL ME NOW, OR I'M GOING TO TELL MUM, DAD, UNCLE GARRETT AND AUNTIE CHARLOTTE ABOUT YOU BUNCH OF DIRTY, WANKING, FUCKING, COCK SUCKING, LITTLE DEVIANT FUCKERS!" she screeched out, "AND WHEN I'VE TOLD THEM…" she screeched as she turned to look at me with screwed up eyes, "I WILL GO TO MUSWELL HILL AND TELL YOUR OLD BITCH OF AN AUNTIE, EDWARD CULLEN!"

FUCK…

Shit.

Rumbled.

Okay.

Time to man up.

As I looked up, I came eye to nipple with Rose's tits and, highly inappropriately, licked my lips.

Sighing, I blinked rapidly as tears pooled in my eyes.

I never cried—ever—the last time had been when that fucker had burned my blanket but this was a tragedy. The Whitlocks and Masens were all I had in the world and now because of my inability to control my fucking sexual urges, I was going to lose it all.

Sighing, I swallowed thickly before I inhaled deeply and raised my hand slowly into the air, admitting my guilt as I did so.

At exactly the same time, a very odd thing happened.

An unbelievable thing actually…

A thing so bizarre, that it took my breath away for the briefest of moments.

Jasper and Emmett did exactly the same thing as I was doing, and at precisely the same time.

Both of them flushed crimson, looked down and raised their arms heavenwards too!

Holy fuck!

FUCKERS!

They've been wanking over Rose's knickers too?

Oh my God!

Dirty fucking bastards!

How could they be so disrespectful to Rose?

How could they?

But then… wasn't I doing exactly the same thing too?

"Are you kidding me?" she said, sounding stunned as she looked from one to the other and then at me.

Shit.

"All of you?" she said, sounding defeated as she slumped into the chair next to Jasper, "All fucking three of you bastards are rubbing one out on and over my fucking designer knickers?" she gasped as the three of us looked from one to the other in shocked disbelief.

Oh God.

Holy shit…

"I kept accusing Auntie Charlotte of losing my knickers when I stayed over…" Rose whispered out, "She's spent a fortune replacing my missing underwear, and even got the engineer out to check the pipes and filters to see _why _my pants kept disappearing and then reappearing…" she continued as her eyes snap to mine.

My cheeks burned as if someone had set them on fire as I continued to stare into her periwinkle blue eyes.

But still none of us spoke.

"You fucking horrible little deviants… please tell me that you didn't make yourselves cum as you sniffed the crotch of my dirty knickers?" she finished, grinning at me now and shaking her head, "Or did you suck them?" she asked, chuckling and – as we all turned almost purple with shame – she burst out laughing. "Oh my God! You did, didn't you? Well, I hope I tasted good boys, and that you have a long fucking memory, because you won't be doing it anymore, and you won't ever fucking get to be WITH me, so enjoy what you had because it's all over now!"

Shit.

"Edward Cullen…" she drawled out slowly as she slid her arms across the table in my direction and rested her large tits on the red dotty oil clothed cover, "I just bet that you tasted my knickers, didn't you?" she chuckled as I turned an even deeper red and my temples began to throb painfully.

How the fuck did she know that I had done that?

"Um… I … er… what?" I spat out, nervously.

Luckily for me, Jasper and Emmett aren't paying attention, they are much too busy arguing amongst themselves.

"But… but… but… that's… shit… Jasper… that's…" Emmett stammered, as he turned to look at Jasper, turning Rose's attention his way. "That's … shit… that's … that's… ugh! That's just fucking disgusting, Jazz…" he continued as he looked horrified, "She's related to you! She's your _cousin, _you dirty pervy fucking little dick! You've been jerking off all over Rosalie's knickers haven't you? You dirty little wanker!" he gasped out.

"Right," Jasper said firmly, folding his arms defensively, as he sat back in his chair, seemingly nonchalant in his response. "So… let's get this straight, Emmett, shall we? Do you honestly think that the fact that you've been jostling off over Rosalie's thong is any better? What if you had got hold of one of my mum's instead? Huh?" he asked, laughing loudly now, "She wears knickers like that too, you know! You could have been sucking the crotch of my mother's knickers, you filthy fucker!" he concluded looking as smug as fuck as he did so, and turned to look at me and waggled his eyebrows.

Oh no…

Surely not?

Surely we hadn't all been masturbating over Charlotte's knickers?

Please GOD!

NOOOOO!

The colour drained from Emmett's face as his brain percolated Jasper's words, and he looked slightly sick as he turned to look at me briefly. Closing his eyes, and without warning, he growled aggressively and leaped across the table at the speed of light, scattering glasses, plates and the fruit bowl as he did so, before he knocked Jasper backwards onto the floor, chair and all.

A bundle of a fight on the tiled floor ensued between the two of them as they slapped, grabbled, kicked and punched one another, cursing and yelling loudly as they did so. Ignoring them both, Rose and I continued to stare at one another, flushed, and her hand snaked out towards mine slightly before we were interrupted once more.

A resounding smash made us jerk apart as Jasper knelt next to Emmett and they were both surrounded by the shattered fruit bowl and the remnants of the last unbroken glass as it toppled off of the table.

Fuck…

Emmett screamed and bayed like an injured animal as he grabbed the front of Jasper's t-shirt and yanked him forwards with one hand, while the other one was already clenched in a waiting fist.

Fuck it!

The fight only stopped when Charlotte came in wondering what all the shouting was about, and she saved Jasper was the impending wrath of Emmett.

She seemed surprisingly laid back about the tussle as she stood, with her glasses pushed up on the top of her head and frowned at them.

I didn't say a word as she yanked them apart, demanding an explanation. They said that they had had a disagreement about Emmett's favourite teams, Chelsea, latest choice in a manager and somehow, Charlotte believed them, and stood with her arms folded until they had picked up everything that they had dropped, or broken, and cleaned it all up.

Sigh.

Luckily for us, Charlotte believed the lie was the only reason for the fight. She handed Jasper and Emmett two cloths and the mop to clean up the rest of the room, and chastised them calmly for making a mess and fighting in the first place. Smiling at Rose and I, she then turned and left the room, and she headed back to her office where she was working on the latest draft of the screen play that she was writing.

Thank fuck.

Breathing deeply, I just sat and looked at my entwined fingers and thanked the Lord that I still had two pairs of Rosalie's unwashed knickers squirreled away in my rooms back at school.

Even then, I was a sneaky, cunning, selfish, and forward thinking, fucker.

For the next year, the vindictive and alluring Ms Masen made our lives a living, fucking hell and punished us at regular intervals for our 'perversions,' as she called them.

She made us go shopping with her and carry her bags, and her friends' too come to that, all the fucking time.

She would parade around in the changing rooms in skimpy clothes and underwear teasing us to the point of distraction. She would lead us, separately, into the cubicles to give our opinion on her possible acquisitions – ever Jasper – and would trail her fingers over her voluptuous body as we watched with open mouths and rock hard cocks, but very sadly, she rarely touched any of us again… but I did touch her… but that's another story.

We were her little cabana boys when she had friends around and had all three of us running around doing her every bidding, fetching, carrying, picking up and so on, whilst they would sit and laugh at us.

Bitches.

Beautiful, sarcastic, spiteful, fucking hot bitches.

And she wasted no opportunity to appear semi-clad in front of me and even rubbed against my quivering, desperate flesh as often as she could, and would frequently spread her legs and bend from the waist when wearing nothing but a pair of fucking knickers within touching distance of me.

I both adored and hated her in equal measure.

Late one night when I was once again wanking off, as quietly as possible to the memory of her latest brush with my cock, my door opened and Rose entered, before she closed it quietly behind her.

She didn't say a word at first and my hand stuttered and slowed in its jerky movements as she stood watching me.

"Don't stop, Edward," she murmured at length, and staring at her, I did as she asked, and started rhythmically tugging my cock once more. "I knew you'd be jerking off after you'd seen me in my bra tonight… you little pervert…" she continued, breathlessly. "Keep doing that… I like it… move your hand faster… come on… do it…"

My Vaseline slicked hand moved harder and faster as I grunted and panted in desperation and I watched Rosalie as she watched me.

She was wearing a skin tight white vest top and a matching thong and her long hair spilled all over her shoulders. Her nipples were large, hard and dark beneath the fine fabric and my eyes roamed her body as my hips started to thrust upwards to meet my clutching hand as my impending orgasm built and built.

Every part of her was pale and glowing as she stood and stared, and it was the most stimulating and arousing thing that I'd ever seen when she pushed one of her hands inside of her small white knickers and began frantically moving her fingers.

That was all it took and I lost it.

The arc of cum that shot out of me as she watched was almost as big as the one in my aunt's house, when I'd wanked off for the first time, and she gasped in surprise when it almost hit her foot.

As I lay, panting, sweating, cum splattered, breathless and gasping, on my bed, she walked towards me and stared at my softening cock in the pale golden orange of the streetlamps that poured in through my open curtains.

"You know, Edward," she said, as she trailed her glistening finger through the fine hair on my upper thigh, "I meant what I said before, one day, I might just have to see if you've learned how to fuck a girl with that thing as well as fuck your hand. That thing is a monster…I've never seen one so fucking big…" she whispered, staring at my suddenly rock hard erection, before she turned around and left my room, closing the door with a soft click as she did so.

She never came into my room again at night, sadly – well, not that I was aware of anyway – but she still teased me mercilessly. Only when she started to board for the final year of her schooling as she prepared to take her final exams before she headed off to university, did she begin to leave us alone – well, some of the time, anyway.

And although she still drove us to the point of distraction with the way that she flashed her body to us on a regular basis, it did become less and less as time went on, unfortunately, and, when she thought I wasn't looking at her, she would sit and stare at me.

Even Jasper noticed.

I think Emmett pretended not to, or perhaps, Emmett, being Emmett, just didn't notice anyway.

Looking back, and knowing what I now know, I think that she would have made one fucking brilliant Dominatrix….

…**ooOoo…**

In the months before I experienced any of my exciting Rosalie encounters, at the tender age of thirteen, and virtually overnight, I'd shot up to well over six feet tall. I towered over Jasper who had reached five foot nine and seemed to have stopped growing. My muscles developed thanks to my heavy involvement in sports and they showed very obviously as they pushed firmly against my newly sinuous skin, causing me to look angular.

Coarse facial hair in a deep bronze colour, sprouted on my face, neck and cheeks, making my jaw look squarer than ever and made me look somewhat older than my years.

Middle aged women in the street would openly look me up and down, which was a little bit disconcerting at times, especially when that fucking snake that lived in my trousers, began to sniff around, raising his head to the occasion every fucking time.

Sigh.

The same colour hair grew thickly over my balls and around my cock, leaving it looking like a lion's mane, and my eyes somehow got to be an even greener shade of emerald as the hair on my head became more vibrant.

Even I could see that I was looking more and more like the photograph of my mother that I kept beside my bed at all times. The only 'Cullen' traits that I had, were my name and my desire to please myself and win at all things – no matter what the consequences were.

As both fine and coarse hair – the same colour as my beard – was sprouting all over my body, my Adam's apple became prominent, my cock and balls got exponentially bigger and my voice deepened, seemingly overnight.

The thicknessand length of my cock grew to such a level that even I struggled to wrap my own hand around my almost non-stop erection. I spent many a happy hour comparing the size of my dick with the other boys in my class.

We had a chart and used our 30cm rulers to measure them. One of the boys had a sewing kit and we began to use the tape measure from that to measure not only the length, but the girth as well.

It was great fun measuring the differences between their sizes when our dicks were asleep or awake and my erection was much, much bigger than everyone else's.

The first time that one of the other boys had knelt down close to my cock and looked at it intently. He whistled appreciatively as it kept growing and moving up my body, until it came to an eventual stop once it had passed my belly button.

The feeling of his hot breath on the wet head of my cock was unbelievable and I shuddered and whimpered loudly frightening the crap out of him!

One by one, the boys in my class took turns in measuring me – taking far more time than was really necessary, I suspected – though I didn't, of course mind all the extra attention that they lavished on it – and ten inches by six inches seemed to be the normal size it reached when it was erect. Frankly, everyone else's cock seemed to be a far less terrifying six or seven inches by three or four inches.

Mine fascinated everyone, and although PE had always been enjoyable, it was now an epic, porn filled experience and communal showers all of a sudden became fascinating, greatly anticipated time at the end of the school days, and in many ways, it was our very first feeling of the erotic.

The veins on my cock became more pronounced and the skin felt like silk stretched over metal when I had a hard-on. And not only did every other boy in my class want to see it, but I was pretty well obsessed with it myself.

It truly was a thing of beauty.

Warm, yet at the same time oddly, slightly cool.

Smooth but hard.

Firm yet delicate.

Everything in contradiction to one another.

The head was unbelievably sensitive and tender and oh so silky when it was wet, and I took every opportunity that I had to abuse it.

I had already found out that sucking and chewing on someone's tongue was the most wonderful feeling as our hands yanked one another's cocks, especially when we were pressed against the cold, wet tiled walls of the shower block.

It had always stopped miles short of reaching orgasm, but that was before that magical Sunday.

After that special day when I had learned the magic of cumming, well… any hand was fair game!

Everything that I knew, I'd gleaned from books in the library, dirty magazines that the prefects sneaked in, or from school friends. Many times, I'd heard my peers and fellow students talking about the sexual Shangri La called 'cumming' but I'd no fucking idea what it meant other than that stuff would spurt out of the end of their cocks.

I'd never even observed anyone having an orgasm, and I had no one that I could ask any questions of at that point.

That all changed after that fateful Sunday afternoon, and from then on 'cumming' was no longer mythical; it was the fucking Ambrosia of the Gods to me and I wanted to 'feel' that 'feeling' all-of-the-fucking-time.

My balls were constantly swollen and large, almost always heavy with lust, and aching for release. They were soft and tender, and covered in a fine, but course, almost coppery golden fuzz and it felt amazing when I rolled them in my hot hands and to watch several boys either the same age, or a little older, kneeling under the cascading water of the shower as they stared in fascination at my violet coloured head that was poking out from the foreskin, was strangely arousing in itself. The paleness of my skin contrasted beautifully with the bronze hair around the base.

As the months went by, and of course, after my Rosalie induced first orgasm, my constant hard-ons needed to be taken care of more than once a day. So I guess it was lucky that both genders started taking an interest in me from that age onwards.

Students and teachers alike in truth.

And Rosalie's comment that both boys and girls would be missing out if I didn't let them have a piece of me started to resonate more fully, because, although I'd never actively sought it out or thought about it consciously, I wasn't exactly averse to being touched by the hands of another boy.

Far from it.

In fact, I found the forbidden and naughty side of being wanked off by another boy to be strangely appealing.

The first time it happened was, of course, in the shower block when two of the older boys were cooing at the size of my cock. Suddenly, one of them stepped closer and leaned forwards and slowly began to stroke my leaking slit.

The feeling was like I was being electrocuted and virtually as soon as he wrapped his fingers as far around my shaft as he could reach, I sprayed a broad arc of cum all over his face and hair.

Stunned, and slightly horrified, I stood in utter silence waiting for them both to beat the crap out of me, but instead, they grabbed one another excitedly and began to kiss frantically whilst rolling around on the vitreous base as their cocks rubbed against one another.

Standing, stock still and staring, they seemed to have forgotten that I was there as they stroked, groped and rubbed one another to orgasm, frantically tugging on my own cock, as I watched their desperate movements. The second that they arched against each other and came, I followed right along with them, splattering the tiled walls and panted, trying to catch my breath.

It was fucking brilliant to watch them cumming and I was desperate to do it again and again.

Virtually overnight, I found myself with endless offers of extra, private and deeply intense tutoring by both male and female teachers, not to mention the fact that the PE department seemed most willing to work after hours to aid me with my 'physical' activities.

This confused me at first, none of them had ever either offered, or felt the need, to give me help beforehand, and it wasn't until someone told me that many of the older students had sexual relationships with the teaching staff and that the size of my cock was the talk of the entire school's common rooms and staff rooms right at that moment, that the penny dropped.

Great.

I wasn't impressed by the fact that everyone was talking about me, I was, and still am, a very private person. Having been locked inside my own head with no-one else for company or to confide in for so many years, I didn't find trusting people easy, and I was secretly horrified this was happening, and that it might, somehow, get back to the Whitlocks and Masens.

For a few weeks, I cooled my open display of sexual rutting and postulating, until I could no longer control my natural urges. After another weekend of abject torment at the hands, or rather tits, of Rosalie, and decided to say – to hell with it!

Notes would be passed around in virtually every class with boys procuring others for hand jobs and blow jobs, and I was in huge demand with boys of all ages, both younger and older because of my big dick and long, supple fingers. By the end of the day, my homework diary would be peppered with tiny post-it notes with mobile phone numbers, or a time and a place to meet, written on them.

Quite often, I would go along and just watch as others indulged, other times I would get involved too.

Sitting on the grass on a warm evening, holding a spliff, whilst someone had their head between another boys thighs, sucking his cock greedily, was fucking hot.

I always liked the visual stimulation of nights like this, and thank God for my almost photographic memory because even now, almost three years later, I can remember every face, every sound and every smell of those occasions and can pull them up when I need a little something to aid a hand job.

In truth, however much they badgered and pestered me, I never messed around with the younger boys, they were even more inexperienced than me, and I wanted to learn from someone older, not have to teach a fucking kid how to wank me or himself, and I preferred the prefects to anyone else.

They at least had some idea of what they were doing to me.

Some of the staff were completely, and utterly, shamelessly open in their advances towards me. Miss Katz, one of the biology teachers wanted to give me 'one on one Anatomy and Physiology lessons' out of hours. But, calling up an almost Herculean strength and effort, I managed, albeit reluctantly, I have to admit, to keep their advances at bay.

Most of the female staff didn't really appeal to me, they tended to look like Eastern European shot putters or discus throwers that had overdone anabolic steroids, so resisting them was, well… that wasn't a hardship, but some of the male teachers – especially Mr Samuels, one of the PE Masters – was one who's advances that I would have loved to have given in to, and struggled to reject his very obvious interest.

It was all highly inappropriate, of course, because he was a teacher in his late twenties or early thirties, who spent much too long staring at my crotch, or surreptitiously touching me in some way, and whom I did find quite appealing. But I managed to resist because even my testosterone raddled brain couldn't wrap itself around the fact that it would be okay to allow an adult to touch me—yet anyway—but I most definitely did indulge with my fellow students.

They all seemingly loved me and couldn't keep their hands off me.

More than once, I stood on the side lines watching six prefects physically fighting over who was going to kiss me and stroke my cock, and sighing, I just got bored and walked away.

The school seemingly turned a blind eye to the antics of both students and teachers alike, apart from the Chaplain, who more than once castigated the 'sins and perversions of the flesh' in one of our enforced church attendances.

We all just about pissed ourselves laughing when he spouted the whole dictionary and Encyclopaedia Britannica definition of the meaning of self-induced pleasures of the flesh. As he leaned across the richly carved pulpit, he looked around the room before his eyes fixed on mine.

Terrific.

"_Masturbation__," he_ explained sagely, "comes from the latin_ 'manus', _which means hand, and_ 'stuprare'_ which mean to soil_," he_ said as he glowered at the congregation. "In other words, it means to 'dirty your hands' – and why would you want to do that? Why would you want to pollute your skin?" he asked, lowering his voice as he did so. "So now you see, boys, that it's no wonder that it was condemned as dirty for so many years! The Catholic Church still says, rightly, that_Masturbation_is nothing but a perversion," he continued, scowling at us all over the top of his spectacles as we struggled not to laugh loudly. "Your penis is an object for procreation, not of pleasure, it is not to be used to pleasure yourself, or anyone else come to that, and it would do you all well to heed this knowledge. My own children are innocent to the sins of the flesh and know the dire repercussions of not following Gods orders. To touch your own gender is an affront to the Lord because you are spilling your seed on poisoned, forbidden soil, and you need to listen to this warning before you all face the consequences at the end of your DAYS!" he finished, raising his voice angrily as we all ignored him.

Right…

Like any of us would listen to that kind of bollocks or even believe it!

Every time I manhandled a dick until it shot its load, the owner of the aforementioned cock would scream out how wonderful I was, how perfect I was, how much he wanted me—but that was total bullshit—I knew it was.

It was my suddenly massive, and permanently hard, cock, that they wanted, as well as my 'pretty' face, and to be honest, snogging is just snogging and groping is just groping regardless of who it's with—male or female—when the lights are out.

But whoever touched me, whether it was a class mate or a prefect, I always—always—gasped out for Rosalie as I sprayed them, or myself, with my creamy coloured cum.

It didn't seem to matter how many times I came, I never seemed to cum in a smaller amount, and being brought up without parents per se, my father was pretty much absent for my entire childhood—and that was before he died—I didn't have anyone to discuss male bodily functions with, and I wasn't about to ask Jasper or his father, let alone my Muswell Hill Billy of an aunt.

Every day, we took turns with wanking ourselves, or one another, off, and we all indulged fully in this new game. It was nothing heavy or serious you understand, just mutual masturbation with hands on top, or inside of clothing, or watching one another wank to orgasm and lots of loud, wet and very sloppy, open mouthed, French kissing.

The massive size of my cock usually terrified boys of my own age, and it made the girls from the nearby comprehensive more than a bit twitchy too, to be honest, but the older ones of both genders loved it.

And in turn, I loved the feeling of power I got from rubbing another boy's cock with my hand, either through his trousers, and watching him squirm under my insistent ministrations until he came all over the inside of his expensive striped uniform trousers, or when we were all naked in the shower block.

Once more, I had found something that I excelled at. I instinctively and immediately knew how to make someone cum.

The other thing that I really loved doing was to lose control and to spray all over their fingers with my milky coloured fluids, while watching their faces as my seemingly never-ending orgasm splashed them was both hysterically funny and fucking erotic.

We were allowed to go into Windsor regularly as long as we behaved in a gentlemanly type manner, and hordes of girls were always waiting for us outside of the school gates for a quick grope.

After a while, I got more and more curious about girls rather than the boys I interacted with, because of deliciously luscious Rosalie and her fucking deliberate teasing. There seemed to be a never ending supply of them in town waiting for us in our distinctive uniforms, and we were shameless as we groped them and then passed the most willing ones around amongst ourselves.

It would be like a swirling, whirling orgy as we all kissed, groped and prodded one another in the Twilight of early evening, hidden behind some building in the school grounds.

The first time I touched a girl's uncovered pussy, I almost came without her laying a finger on me.

Her body was soft and pliant to the touch, a bit like a feather pillow, and as I grabbed handfuls of her tits, I imagined that it was Rose's breasts that I was pawing.

This girl felt like the total antithesis of how it felt to be touching the body of another boy, because she was yielding and comforting under my probing fingertips, unlike a boys firm, harder physique.

Murmurs of interest reverberated around our frantic groping as I pressed her against a wall, and a group of boys watched our movements intently, several of them dropping down to their knees to watch my twitching cock.

There was VERY little privacy in Eton, or so it would seem.

As Tracy pushed her ample body against mine, she wiggled her big knickers down enthusiastically as my hands yanked and tugged at her blouse, pulling it out from inside of the waistband of her skirt. We kissed passionately, making loud, wet, slurping sounds as our mouths remained wide open and our teeth bumped against one another's.

I didn't have a fucking clue what I was doing, so eventually, after spending an inordinate amount of time groping her tits over her school blouse, she grabbed my hands, and pushed them downwards as she opened her podgy thighs to me.

The first thing I noticed was the soft, silky hair that seemed to part beneath my probing finger tips to allow me entrance to a hot, slick, wet, tight tunnel. As I pushed and pulled one finger in and out of her wetness, her muscles gripped me tightly and she whimpered.

Gasping, I pulled back and watched as my finger came out covered in a glossy, syrupy sheen and she whined loudly as I shoved it all the way back in.

The heat inside of her made me shudder and my cock was leaking so much pre-cum, it looked as if I'd sprung a leak as it drizzled all over my pin-striped trousers.

I hadn't the faintest idea what I was meant to do next so I just kept doing whatever felt good, and the sloppy, squelching sounds that emanated from her crotch as I moved my hand faster and faster were fucking brilliant.

"Add another finger…" she panted, "I'm not a fucking… virgin, stick two… fingers …two… fingers… into… my pussy…" she stammered and as I did as I was told, she groaned and thrust against my invading fingers even harder.

Allowing instinct to take over once more, I thrust a third finger inside of her and started to move my arm faster and harder. She seemed to like it and she mumbled and groaned into my mouth as she pressed the palm of her hand against mine, almost hurting me as she rubbed against me, coating my fingers with her juices.

Neither of us came during my pathetic fingering attempt, of course, I doubt I was even capable of making a girl orgasm just yet, but when she ripped open her blouse and yanked her bra-cup down, I whimpered as I stared at her tightly puckered flesh.

I swallowed thickly as she grinned at me before pulling my head down and letting me suck on one of her hard nipples. The feeling of that new and unique type of flesh in my mouth was all it took; closing my eyes, I imagined that I had Rosalie's dark pink nipple against my tongue and lips, and as I opened my mouth wider and suckled at her rounded ripeness, I shuddered and lost my shit after the third suck and spurted my hot cum all over her brand new, shiny pink shoes.

That royally pissed her off.

Yelping loudly in disgust, she dragged my fingers out of her pussy, yanked her knickers up and stomped back to the gates, cussing and swearing about me being a 'useless fucking posh twat,' and doing the buttons on her blouse up as she went.

Oh well, at least I got to cum, and right then it seemed irrelevant to me whether the other person came or not.

My, how times have changed…

Looking down at my hand, I was amazed to see that my fingers were wet and shiny, almost as if they'd been dipped in sunflower oil, and as I rubbed my index finger against my thumb, I loved how slippery and slick they felt.

Shrugging, I pulled my hand up to my nose and took a perfunctory sniff while the other boys gasped loudly at my bravery.

"Does she smell like tuna fish, Cullen?" Toby, one of my classmates asked, sounding horrified, "Torquil fingered her last week and said she smelled like a can of fish!" he said, loudly.

Looking at him, I shook my head because it was completely odourless.

There was nothing.

It smelt of absolutely nothing, surprisingly, and tentatively, I stuck my tongue out and took a quick lick.

Huh.

The other boys bellowed and yelled at me that I was either "fucking brave" or "fucking mental," as I sucked the tip of my middle finger into my mouth firmly before I quickly wiped my hand on my waistcoat.

She didn't taste of much to be honest, and the flavour most certainly didn't drive me wild with desire, but the mere fact that I was doing what I was doing, and was tasting a girl's pussy juice, was enough to make my fucking cock start to twitch again.

Oh well.

In for a penny and in for a pound, so I sucked my entire finger into my mouth to see what all the fuss about 'going down on a girl' was all about as the other boys hissed in shock as I did it and my cock shot up to bounce off of my stomach once more.

Tim was more than happy to take care of my predicament for me without my even having to ask him, thank God, and as he stroked me firmly, I grabbed his hair, pulling his body closer to mine and imagined that Rosalie was on her knees in front of me, tugging my cock, and it was the taste of her that coated my tongue and lips.

Shrugging again at the impressed mutterings and murmurings of the boys around me, I did my trousers up and ran my fingers through my no doubt insane hair, and walked off thinking to myself that I had no idea what the other boys were moaning about, "She tasted okay," I said, as I turned and walked away, but it was okay to be honest, "Thanks Tim," I yelled as I kept on looking forwards and went back to my room.

And I for one, would be quite happy to drink from the furry cup, when the time was right, because if that was what a girl's pre-cum tasted like, it tasted a lot fucking better than mine did!

Some of my friends raved about it, others bemoaned the fact the female of the species smelt, and tasted, like raw fish.

Okay.

Well that was bollocks for a start, yes, there was a slight flavour of 'something' there, I didn't know what, but it wasn't anything unpleasant. When I returned to my room, I spent ages sniffing and tasting my fingers as I tried to memorise her scent and flavour.

Also present was the tang and whiff of the cheap generic soap that was in every bathroom, toilet and shower stall in the school and in every state school and pub. Nothing else, nothing horrible and most certainly no essence of fucking mackerel!

Over the next few weeks, I continue ambling along and I did my usual things – I worked hard and I played equally as hard.

School was school, and hand jobs were hand jobs.

But nothing really 'stood out' anymore, one hand job or wank seemed to blend into the next and I was rapidly becoming jaded as far as sexual experiences were concerned at fifteen years of fucking age.

The only bright spot was occasionally catching two boys indulging in oral sex, I loved watching that, it was soooo fucking hot, and I always wanked frantically after those sightings.

The teachers tended to leave us alone in the showers now, obviously aware of what we were up to, and there was always at least one boy on his knees sucking another off and they were usually more than happy to let all and sundry watch them.

On one occasion when I was coming back from town in the late afternoon, I was stunned to see one boy was being buggered from behind by another, much taller, older boy. Sadly, I was too far away to see anything clearly, but the way that they both moaned loudly as the older boy moved slowly, stirred something deep inside me. They were bent over an old tree stump near the rugby pitches and I stood, semi-hidden behind a Hawthorn tree in a nearby field, as I watched them and wanked off in time to their thrusting. It didn't fucking help that they knew I was there and stared at me as they continued fucking as the older boy grabbed the hair of the other boy and used it to propel himself backwards and forwards, I came before they did and gasped and panted as I'd coated the poor bark in a creamy film as I continued to watch them.

All of a sudden, the taller boy pulled his cock out and sprayed his cum all over the younger boys back before he dipped his head down and started to lick him clean.

I was so stunned and overwhelmed by this sight that I'd never seen, or even thought about before, that I'd had to run into the sports hall to hide amongst the gym equipment and have a quick jostle to ease the overwhelming urge to join them.

Huh.

After that, every day rolled into another, and I rarely caught anyone indulging in anything but mutual, manual masturbation, and I rapidly began to tire of hand jobs.

There was one day that brought me out of my routine and it was the day that I had my school medical.

That was a particularly memorable event for me, standing out for oh so very many reasons…

That was the day that I truly learned that sex made the world go round utterly and completely—probably more so than money and privilege, and that I had power that I hadn't been aware of. I learned that if you could control a situation physically, you could take another person's power, however old, and however clever, the other individual appeared to be.

We were going on a school cricket tour to India and had to be checked over medically for our travel insurance policies, as well as being injected against every parasite and disease known to man-kind.

I had pretty much dedicated most of my free time to playing rugby and cricket, as well as swimming and rowing, even being chosen to play at county level in all four sports. It meant that I could no longer spend every weekend with the Whitlocks, or to sadly indulge in my favourite hobby of Rosalie watching.

It also meant that, because of the conflicting groups of muscles that multiple sports used, my body was not only long and slender but sculpted with well-defined muscles and tendons, angular and lean.

I was well aware that this new physique appealed to others.

And wandering around wearing low slung jeans and shorts meant that the defined muscles from my belly button to my crotch were on display, and I used my improved body to its full effect and to my benefit…

As rugby and cricket were played at different times of the year, it gave me time to become competitive in rowing and swimming and this gave me broad shoulders and strong arms, with a narrow waist and hips.

Despite the fact that I had just turned fifteen, I wasn't in the slightest bit embarrassed when the male doctor and female nurse told me to strip from the waist down.

By this point in time, I'd already been intimate with dozens of boys and lots of girls and was used to showing my cock and balls, pretty much to anyone who asked to see them.

The medics just about fainted on the spot when I dropped my trousers and pants without blinking the second that they told me to. My eager, immediately rock-hard cock all but ripped its way out of its confinement and waved to them, pushing my foreskin down, as it mistakenly thought that it was hand job time once more.

As ever, the thought of warm hands touching me, meant one thing and one thing only.

Instant erection.

Smirking, I stared intently at the poor, fumbling, middle-aged doctor as he cupped my large balls and told me to cough.

His fingers were hot and clammy, even through the thin latex, as they shook and I fought the urge to laugh at his reaction, because arrogant as it might sound now, I already knew what my body did to people and I loved to play on it.

It made me feel important to someone…

Though, of course, in reality, the highly logical side of my brain knew that they only wanted to fuck me, not love me.

"What do you mean, Doctor?" I'd asked, sounding as innocent as I could and looking down into his eyes, batting my eyelashes as I did so and flexing my thighs at the same time, making his eyes flick from my groin to my legs and back again several times, "Why do you want me to cough?"

It was the same way that I looked at my sculling coach when he cock-watched me, and he got a hard on every-single-fucking-time. His hard on always made me cum more quickly strangely enough...

The doctor was so close to me at this point that my cock almost smacked him in the face as his breath washed over my erection and wet head. He squeaked loudly as pre-cum flooded the slit, and I almost laughed out loud.

Forgetting where he was and what he was doing, his hand moved repeatedly and stroked my balls gently, but highly inappropriately, before he jumped to his feet, flushed and sweating, remembering what he was doing, who he was and what he was doing to an underage school boy.

Muttering to himself, he walked away from me quickly, and sat behind his desk, ostensibly to fill in some paperwork.

Up until this point, the nurse hadn't moved, she just stood stock still and stared in abject disbelief at my large cock.

I guess that you don't see a ten inch by six inch cock on a fifteen year old boy every day, do you?

Okay then, time to give her a show too and as I moved, my prick waved around in front of her, making her squeak out loud.

I could hear the doctor breathing in rasping breaths from across the room as he tried to avert his eyes from my erection, and I wasn't having that! So, grinning, I turned around, bent from the waist, parted my muscular thighs, grabbed my boxer shorts and slowly pulled my pants back up, the way I did when I wanted to tease the PE Master to the point of delirium.

The doctor had to immediately excuse himself as his eyes fell on my parted cheeks.

Oh well, and another adult, unable to resist my body, bit the dust!

…**ooOoo…..**

Just three months before my sixteenth birthday, I was given my first blow job by an eighteen year old boy.

After watching countless couplings over the previous eighteen months, I at last felt ready to try it. Up until that point, a frantic hand job by anyone willing to yank my cock was enough, but as I said, that had lost its magic and I needed to try something new.

I didn't know what at first. I had thought about finding Tracy and fucking her in front of my classmates, but after watching a line of prefects being blown by younger boys, their heads frantically bobbing up and down over a collection of cocks of all different shapes, sizes and colours, and seeing the looks of euphoria on their faces, I decided that I wanted to give it a go.

I spent a couple of weeks looking around, and choosing who I wanted my first time to be with – even then I was methodical in my decisions and the entire event was planned with military style precision – putting my idea into action.

The fact was, I was reasonably sure that I wasn't gay by this point, and didn't want some pretty, prissy little boy sucking me off for the first time. I wanted someone who looked masculine and whom I was attracted to.

And that person was Douglas.

Douglas.

Douglas didn't look like he was into boys.

But he was.

He really didn't look as if he was gay, or even bisexual, but he'd followed me around, trying, and failing miserably, to be surreptitious, like a love sick puppy for months and I was ready to try something different and new, so I singled him out for the honour of popping my oral cherry.

Like me, Douglas was clever and sporty and in great demand with the other boys, and according to school gossip, with some of the teachers too.

Ostensibly, I always looked confident and arrogant, as if I had no self-doubt whatsoever, but the fact is that I was always a desperate little boy seeking approval and love from someone – any one.

That never came, and I was always left feeling used, unwanted and uninspired.

I was always able to find someone willing to give me a hand job, but there was rarely anyone around who was willing to spend time with me to just talk, laugh or listen to music, like Jasper.

Jasper and I still spoke every day on the telephone but I never discussed my sexual antics with him. He had never shown any interest in either gender – but instead he spent all of his time fiddling about with his guitar and writing music so added to that and his school work, there wasn't much time for anything else.

Though, strangely enough, _I _ALWAYS found time to indulge…

On one, sticky, hot summer night, after drinking too much cheap cider in a pub on the outskirts of Windsor and turning down the advances of a much older woman, I returned to the school premises feeling bored and decided to just fucking go for it.

Having hummed and dithered about whether to go ahead and act on my plan – or not – on my way back to school, I finally plucked up the courage to act on an idea that had been percolating in my head for days.

The sun was just lowering and the early evening crickets were chirruping in the grass as I got into position, hiding myself from prying eyes, as I waited behind the swimming block.

Sitting in the grass, I smoked a joint that I'd bought in town to relax my rapidly building nerves, and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more…

Time passed slowly and just as I sprawled out, yawing loudly, about to give up for the day, I heard the squeak of a bikes wheel and sat up in the grass to see who it was.

Douglas.

Douglas was cycling languidly back along the tarmac covered road.

Smiling, I stood up and called him over, "Douglas!" I barked. As he turned to look at me, his mountain bike wobbled as he peddled towards me, frowning.

Tall, muscular and blond, he was impressively big, not quite as tall as me, but a rugby player no less, almost as good as me, and on the team three years above me, and deeply tanned, thanks to the already unseasonably hot weather.

He was fucking good looking.

Even to me, who, despite my fumbles with the same gender, pretty much knew that I was straight and that this form of sex was merely a means to an end, he was fucking hot.

I'd asked around to see who he was fucking, but no one seemed to know, other than they thought that it was either another prefect or one of the master's.

All this had done was to crystallise the fact in my mind that he would be experienced and so he was the one that I wanted to suck my cock first.

As he walked towards me frowning, pushing his bike, I called out again, "Douglas! Hurry up! Quick! Over here! Quick! Don't let anyone see you!"

"What do you want, Edward?" he asked, scowling again as he got closer, looking nervously around him. "You should be in the refectory for supper. What are you doing out here?" he said, "What do you want?"

Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes briefly before I smiled at him and continued. "You," I said, and, as I licked my lips, he stumbled slightly making me smile at his instant lack of composure.

"What the fuck do you want, Cullen?" he asked again, his voice rising in surprise.

"What do you think that I want, Doug?" I asked as he reached me, "I want YOU…" I finished as I slid down into the warm, fragrant grass in front of him.

He propped his bike against the wall and stood just in front of my wide-spread, denim clad legs and bare feet, staring at me in amazement as I lay back on my elbows, grinning up at him.

"I don't know what the fuck you're playing at, Cullen," he started, "But I'm not frigging well biting. Stand up and get back into fucking school before I put you on report. I am a fucking prefect remember, you little oik!" he said with his clipped angry sounding voice.

As he started to walk away, I answered him, "I'm sorry." I said gently and watched as he stumbled at the soft tone of my voice, "I only wanted to kiss you, Douglas, that's all."

When he turned to look at me, stunned, his mouth popped open in surprise, and I grinned up at him and winked.

"What the fuck do you mean?" he gasped out, starting to walk backwards away from me.

Without giving him a chance to get further away, I leaped to my feet, grabbed his shoulders, and latched my mouth onto his lips, shoving my tongue forcibly into his mouth, before sliding my hand down, and firmly stroked my long fingers along his cock over his trousers.

Before I'd even touched him, I just knew that he would already be hard.

And guess what?

He WAS.

"Fucking hell, Edward!" he gasped, pulling back from me slightly, "What the fuck are you doing? Get off of me! I don't want to fucking kiss you! You're too young! You're not sixteen yet! What the hell are you doing to me? I'm not gay!" he panted, struggling half-heartedly in my grappling arms as I leaned forwards and peppered his cheeks with tender kisses, "I'm not fucking gay…" he groaned.

"Of course you aren't…" I said, kissing along his jaw. "Neither am I… but I want you…" I whispered, before clamping my mouth back onto his, and as he opened his mouth to protest, I sucked on his tongue firmly, grabbing the cheek of his arse with one hand and the back of his neck with the other one, pulling him closer to me, and kissing him more desperately.

The blood and adrenaline surged around my body and I shuddered violently at his taste as my superior strength and power overwhelmed him.

I loved kissing, I always had—boys or girls—I wasn't fussy really—but this was something else, and the animalistic way that I had to hang on to him to hold him close to stop him fighting his way out of my hold, just cranked my excitement up to an entirely new level.

"Fuck…Edward… that's just… just… fuck… I've wanted… you… for so… so… fucking long…" he groaned loudly as I pressed my crotch forwards and rubbed our jean covered cocks together for the first time and kissed him more deeply.

Mumbling, he stopped fighting me, and instead, ran his hands up the back of my t-shirt, sliding his blunt nails firmly up and down my bare, sun-kissed skin, making me vibrate with need as I thrust and rubbed against his erection.

This was really very different—this wasn't a little fumbling grope behind the bike sheds, this was something else entirely.

The kissing became fevered and deeply erotic as we both fought for dominance and supremacy, grabbing and pulling at our respective shoulders and clothing, as well as sucking, chewing, biting and lapping at one another's mouths almost painfully as our bodies ground together repeatedly.

I'd never been kissed like this before.

Ever.

And as he sucked my tongue firmly, I thrust against him desperately, whimpering and quivering in desperation.

At this rate, I was going to cum in my jeans before he'd even touched me and I deliberately pulled my pelvis backwards before I embarrassed myself by cumming too soon.

Eventually, Douglas pulled back and stared at me, panting heavily.

For the longest moment, we looked at one another, silent and unmoving.

His face was pink, damp and flushed, with ruddy, red, high spots on his cheeks. His eyes were bright, moist and alive and his blonde curls were damp and messy thanks to my tugging and grabbing hands.

"Edward," he asked simply, as he stared into my eyes, his chest heaving as he dug his fingers into my biceps, "are you sure you want this? This isn't just kissing you know… we can stop now… but if we carry on for much longer… I don't trust myself to be able to stop. I want you SO fucking badly, but I need to know something and you have to say it out loud. Are you sure?"

I nodded enthusiastically, "Fucking yes! I'm sure! I'm sooooo fucking sure! Douglas! I want you! I want this!" I gasped out, "I came looking for you, remember? I've wanted you for weeks…" I said, truthfully. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have kissed you like that!" I finished.

Staring at me, he blinked slowly.

"Do you know how long I've dreamed of touching you? How long I've wondered what it would be like to kiss you?" he stared as his eyes roamed my body, "To taste you? To stroke your cock? To fuck you? Shit…" he said as he looked at my bulging crotch.

"Fuck…" I muttered as I tried to yank him closer once more. "Stop fucking talking, and fucking kiss me…" I growled as I licked my lips.

"Patience, patience, pretty boy," he said, smiling, "I want to have your cock in my mouth, Edward," he said quietly, licking his lips in turn, as he looked repeatedly from my mouth to my eyes and back again, "Can I? Can I suck your cock until you cum in my mouth?" Is that what you want me to do to you?" he asked.

Nodding enthusiastically, "God, yes!" I gasped out, "Do it! Do it, Douglas," I said, "Just fucking do it!" I ordered loudly.

"Please. Please let me suck you off," he whimpered as I finally pulled our bodies flush again and firmly licked up and down his neck in the same way that I liked to have done to me. "I want you to cum in my mouth…and swallow what you give me…" he finished quietly, pulling back to look at me and blinking slowly.

"Fucking hell…" I whimpered out as his fingers stroked up and down the fine hair on my arms.

Smiling, he continued, "Tell me that I can suck your cock and balls, Edward," he rasped, staring at my mouth again.

Nodding, I answered with a quivering voice, "Suck my cock, Douglas. I _really_ want to cum in your mouth."

Smiling, he nodded and I watched, entranced, as he immediately dropped to his knees and slowly rubbed his hands up and down my erection several times, his long, thick fingers digging into the thick denim, making me hiss out in surprise, before he undid the buttons on my jeans quickly and yanked them down around my ankles.

As he stared at my crotch, my cock twitched excitedly.

"Fucking hell…" he muttered, more to himself than to me as he trailed his finger along my erection, before pulling my pants down.

By the time that my cock was finally free, Douglas was visibly shaking as my angry looking, and pre-cum leaking, cock sprang into view.

The feeling to being exposed to the warm evening air was amazing and I whimpered in anticipation.

"Oh, my God, Edward!" he exclaimed, staring up at me as he cupped my balls with his fingers, "Your cock is fucking massive…amazing…Jesus…I've never seen anything like it…it's beautiful… beautiful…" he said, almost wistfully, licking his lips and stroking one finger around the corona several times. "I've heard tales about your big dick but I didn't believe those other fuckers… I thought they were lying… no wonder Riley wants a piece of your arse…" he said quietly.

Good to know even if I didn't have a fucking clue who Riley was.

"Douglas…" I whined as I thrust forwards, "Suck my cock…"

"Fuck…so fucking long… and so fucking thick… big… God…so fucking big…" he murmured, more to himself than to me, as he devoured me with his eyes and trailed the tip of his index finger along my head before dipping it into my slit.

Sitting back on his heels, he sucked his finger into his mouth and the visual of him tasting my pre-cum was enough to make my cock swell even further and to make my balls begin to tingle.

His large, calloused, rugby players hands were surprisingly gentle as they ran over my hypersensitive cock for the first time, making me jerk and gasp, open-mouthed, like a beached fish. As his touch became slightly stronger, I let out a shaky breath as he pushed my foreskin back fully, exposing my deep violet, very wet head, and blew warm air over my entire cock.

"Holy fuck!" I hissed in shock.

I was surprised at the unbelievable feelings that were galloping around my crotch as he used his hands fully to stroke me now, smearing my pre-cum up and down my swollen shaft, lubricating my skin for his touch, before he leaned forward and licked my slit for the first time.

Touching myself had never felt like this before, and none of the others who had helped me masturbate had made my cock feel like this.

Shit.

Gasping as his rough tongue licked repeatedly over and around my swollen, leaking head, I jerked in surprise, grunting as the tingly, electrical current erupted from my balls and shot around my oversensitive body like miniscule bolts of lightning. I hadn't expected his tongue to feel anything but soft, warm and wet, but the roughness was unbelievably delicious as he laved it over and around and up and down.

Not gay, huh?

Fuck me.

Well if that was true, he was certainly giving a fucking good impression of knowing how to suck a cock if he wasn't.

But then, how many cocks had I wanked and watched being wanked over the last, eighteen months, and I wasn't gay either, was I?

Or was I?

Right now, I didn't know or care.

The feeling was so intense and overwhelming, that I didn't know what to do at first. The choice was to either run away, frightened of the reactions that this act was dragging out of me and risk losing the feeling of power and control that I loved to have over these boys, or to give in and cum in his mouth immediately as he tenderly lapped and sucked at the head of my cock.

Without giving me any warning, he sucked my head all the way into his mouth at last, trailing one hand down and groping my balls at the same time.

The shriek that erupted from my throat via my drooping open mouth was strangled and garbled as he sucked hard, fast and enthusiastically, "More! Douglas! MORE!" I barked.

The euphoric feeling was so over powering, that lust took over. I grabbed hold of his hair in both of my hands, using it as leverage, and frantically and selfishly, fucked his mouth hard and erratically as he groaned, whimpered and hummed appreciatively at my desperation.

Three thrusts later, I yanked his head closer as I shoved my cock all the way down his throat and came, flooding his mouth with my usual copious amounts of jizz, while battling desperately not to scream the sky down and thus to alert others to what we were doing.

The endorphin rush was so mind-numbingly amazing, that my brain and body seemed to detach from both one another and all reality.

As spurt after spurt shot out of my body, I shook so violently that I struggled to stand upright.

Lights, stars, angels on clouds playing harps, hearts, birdsong, music, melodic chanting and blue birds exploded – all the romantic bollocks that the sonnets spout – and flew around my frazzled brain rendering me totally unable to form a coherent thought let alone an understandable word.

Finally, the last vestige of orgasm left my body, but still I didn't let go of his hair; instead using my firm grip to balance myself, and even when he spluttered and tried to fight me off of him so that he could breathe, I hung on regardless.

Coughing and choking, he shoved my upper thighs painfully hard as he jerked backward, falling on the grass looking stunned and scarlet in the face. He gasped loudly, trying to catch his breath as tears, snot and cum ran down his face, out of his nose and mouth, and he fell backwards onto the grass.

Shit.

The look of total capitulation on his face made me feel empowered and my cock twitched as I watched his fight to breathe.

"Jesus!" he gasped at me, as he flopped back fully, landing on his back. Panting, he pulled his top up and swiped his sweat stained t-shirt over his face in a futile attempt to clean himself up, "Fucking hell, Edward! Do you always cum like that?" he wheezed out, "Do you always cum that amount? FUCK! Edward!" he panted, "You almost fucking drowned me in spunk!"

"I've never had a blowjob before," I said, shrugging, as I leaned back against the swimming block wall in an attempt to calm myself, get my breath back and not fall over.

"You've never had…?" he asked, breathlessly and sounding shocked, "You've never…shit…you've never?" he stammered, staring at me, his eyes suddenly wide, and as I shook my head slightly, he continued, frantically looking all around us, "How old the fuck are you, Edward? I thought that you were almost sixteen? I'm not going to get arrested for giving head to a minor am I?" he asked, looking absolutely terrified.

Shaking my head, I smiled at him, "Fuck off! I'm nearly sixteen, and I haven't had a blowjob before because I couldn't be arsed, and wasn't interested," I said nonchalantly, "Having a mutual wank, or getting a quick hand job, seemed a lot easier to be honest, and I know that my cock isn't exactly small so most of the others wouldn't want to do it to me, I suppose…" I said, slowly.

"Shit…well, I suppose that's okay. Fuck…" he panted.

"Was it alright?" I asked, suddenly nervous that there might be something that I wasn't good at.

"Shit…that was…was…fuck…amazing…I really wanted to do it…I've wanted to do that for a long time…you have no idea how long I've wanted to touch you…you're everything I imagined you'd be… you taste fucking fantastic…" Douglas said, staring at me and licking his lips as his eyes dropped south again, before they snapped back to mine and a look of concern flashed across his handsome face. "Well? Did you like it? Did you? Do you regret it?" he asked warily.

"Put it this way," I grinned, standing upright, feeling almost back to normal once again, "I might not have had one before, but I fucking want another one! That was fucking brilliant!" I said excitedly, and he looked stunned as almost immediately, my cock rose before his eyes, "I've never felt anything like that, Douglas! That was bloody brilliant! Do it again, Douglas!" I said, enthusiastically, "Let me fuck your mouth again!"

"Jesus Christ. Again? Already?" he said looking astonished, as my cock was once more rigid and pulsing. "Fuck… are you sure you want me to suck you off again? Wouldn't you rather that I fucked your arse instead? Do you want me to fuck you, Edward?" he asked, trailing one fingernail along my groin, making me hiss at the feeling, "Do you? Do you want my cock in your arse? I've done it before…I know how to make you feel good… so good…" he continued as he dug his nail in harder, "Spit will work as a lube…I'll be gentle with you…he's always been gentle with me…my first time was good…I'll make yours good too…" he divulged, staring at my cock again and licking his lips in anticipation.

Did I?

No.

No, not like that.

Shaking my head, "No, not yet," I replied, "I'm not ready for that. Not yet. I don't know if I want to do that. I don't know if I would ever want to do that…" I say as my mind whirled with this new possibility, "But I do know that I want you to suck my cock again," I finished, selfishly as I grabbed my rock hard erection and began to stroke myself in front of him, pulling my foreskin up and over my swollen head repeatedly, making myself groan as I did so.

"Shit…don't do that…I want to do it…" he murmured, clambering up onto his knees again, grabbing my hips, he yanked me forward and buried his face in my groin, sucking my balls, and almost making me lose my shit instantly.

The second time he took his time, and I lasted much longer. He went slowly and I took my time to savour every stroke, lap, touch, lick and suck that Douglas's mouth desperately lavished on my cock and balls.

As he finally opened up and took me inside, I almost came on the spot at the unbelievably wonderful, hot, suction-like feeling of his soft, wet mouth as he firmly suckled the head of my throbbing cock.

Pulling back, he licked his lips and grinned up at me, "Fuck you taste good, Edward… so fucking goooood…" he murmured before he dove back in and sucked me firmly into his mouth.

Dragging his tongue long my cock firmly, he then swirled it around my head and poked it into my cum-filled slit. Groaning at the unbelievably delicious feelings that his rough muscle heaped on my hyper-sensitive head and shaft, I shuddered and instinctively began thrusting slowly in between his willing lips and smiled, gasping slightly at the overwhelming feeling of the wet, warm, tight, silky tunnel that was engulfing my cock; I opened my eyes and looked down as I held onto his hair once more.

Watching my cock as it slid in and out of his widely stretched mouth was the singularly hottest thing that I'd ever seen and I jerked as another surge of desire and passion overtook my body while adrenaline surged through my veins.

As I gently stroked and twisted my fingers into Douglas' hair, he whimpered. I was amazed at the euphoric expression on his face as his tongue stroked up and down my thick veins, making me shudder.

He really liked doing this to me and that knowledge was as much of a turn on as the act itself, and as he looked up at me, his eyes were soft and smiling as his hand began to stroke my balls.

"You…you …fuck… like this…" I panted, "Don't… shit… don't you?" I said, stunned and as he looked up at me and smiled, I gasped out.

Wow.

When, at last, I came for the second time, he moaned, held me tightly by the backs of my legs and drank down everything I gave him hungrily, and as my cock twitched and jerked inside his accommodating mouth he moved his hands and dug his fingers into my buttocks. Staring at me intently, he pulled my cheeks apart and firmly pressed one finger against my opening in small, pulsing movements.

"FUCK!" I yelled as I continued shooting rope after rope of hot, salty cum down his throat.

The unbelievably delicious pressure of his fingers made an extra surge of electricity rattle around my hormone raddled nerves and I jerked at the intensity of it all, shoving my cock all the way down the back of his throat as I did so.

As I came down from my hormone induced high, I watched intently as he sat back on his heels and smiled.

Licking his lips of the residue of my cum, he hummed and smiled once more, and I wanted to know why he enjoyed it so much, so I decided that I wanted to reciprocate.

"I liked that…" I said simply, "I really fucking liked that..." I said again, shaking my head as I tried to come to terms with what I'd just felt and experienced.

It was like a fucking religious experience and even though I'd cum twice in about twenty minutes, my cock was already twitching at the memory of his amazing mouth and it was almost hard again.

As he looked at me and smiled at my flushed, sweaty, quivering body, I decided to seize the opportunity, and although I'd absolutely no idea what I was doing, I crouched down in front of him. My jeans and pants were still around my ankles, legs widely spread as my cock rose even more, hardening instantly to press against my abdomen once again. My t-shirt was darker now that it was stained around the neck, armpits and down the centre with my sweat.

"Do you want to fuck me, baby?" he asked, his eyes widening in disbelief as they fell on my third erection, "You can fuck me…Edward…I've been fucked in the arse… a lot…" he pants out, "He loves… he loves to fuck my arse… please… please…fuck my arse…I loved being fucked…please…I need it…I need you…please…" he whimpered.

Shaking my head, I tugged his hair to make him look at me, as I began stroking his face, and he rested his cheek in my palm.

Leaning forwards, I smiled at him, and then, without thinking, I leaned forward and kissed him gently on his lips, tasting my own cum in the process.

It didn't taste great, but it didn't taste too awful either, and sucking his bottom lip into my swollen mouth, I moaned.

Taking his hand, I pulled him to his feet and wrapped my arms around his neck, smiling, as I ground my groin against his once again. "Shit, that's fucking hot!" I said excitedly, "I can taste myself on your mouth!"

"Fuck me, Edward!" he gasped out, grabbing my arms firmly. "Please! I'll show you what to do… please…" he pleaded.

"No, I don't want to fuck you," I said, "But I do want to suck your cock," grinning as he gasped loudly and his mouth popped open, "Cum in my mouth, Douglas," I finished.

To be honest, I'd never considered fucking a guy, and I wouldn't have a sodding clue what to do anyway, but I suddenly realised that I wasn't actually averse to the idea either and my ever enthusiastic dick did a happy dance against my belly.

Maybe I was gay after all?

Maybe?

I don't know about that but right now, any holes a goal so it would seem.

Shit…

How would Jasper deal with that?

How would the great Cullen dynasty cope with the fact that its heir apparent was possibly gay?

Would they cope?

Did I care whether it would affect them or not?

By this point in today's proceedings, I was beyond caring whether people would understand or not.

Douglas was sweating and, as I pressed my lips to his, he opened his mouth to me and we kissed gently, yet passionately whilst I lowered my hands and, grabbing the damp hem, I yanked his t-shirt over his head.

Standing up, and stepping back briefly, I looked him up and down and smiled as I pulled him to his feet once more, "Stand up for me, Douglas," I said huskily.

Fuck, I'd chosen well for my first real sexual experience, and moving closer once more, I crashed my lips to his, tongue fucking his mouth as I dropped my hands and began unbuttoning his jeans before slowly kissing my way down his body.

Swirling my tongue around the light fuzz that circled his navel, I knelt down on bare knees on the warm, soft closely cropped grass and let instinct take over. As I grabbed his hips, I began to mock fuck him by jabbing my tongue in and out of his belly button repeatedly, making him groan and thrust slightly against me.

Sitting back on my heels, I trailed my fingertips lightly up and down his highly muscular torso and watched, transfixed, as his six-pack quivered and contracted at my gentle touch.

He almost glowed in the mellow, setting sunlight and he looked absolutely delicious as the long stretching shadows spread out before us.

Reaching up, I stroked across his pale pink nipples, amazed to see them pucker as I grazed across them. I smiled as I began trailing my fingers through the fine curls that smattered his chest and ran in a spasmodic line down the centre of his body.

Slipping my fingers into the waistband of his now soaking wet boxers, I inhaled deeply trying to dissipate my nerves.

Could I do this?

Wanking someone off was one thing, taking them in my mouth and sucking them until they came was something else again and I wavered slightly as I swallowed hard as my eyes shot upwards to his.

He was quivering in anticipation and began to frantically lick his bottom lip repeatedly, "Fuck… Edward…" he whispered as his fingers stroked through my hair, "Suck my cock…" he asked, "Please… I don't have to cum in your mouth if you would rather that I didn't…"

Staring at him again, I breathed deeply and grabbed hold of the elastic around his waist, closed my eyes, and pulled them down quickly.

"No…" I murmured, "No… I want to do this… I need to do this…" I finish, girding my own loins to what I had to do next.

Lowering my eyes, I looked at his erection for the first time.

His cock was pale and smooth with a rosy head and glistened because of his leaking pre-cum, and as I leaned forward and ran my nose along his throbbing erection, he inhaled sharply as I looked up at him through my eyelashes and smiled.

Instinct had indeed taken over completely; I just seemed to know exactly what to do even though I'd only seen a couple of boys indulging in it a few times from a distance.

"Fuck…you are so pretty, Edward..." he whispered, stroking my hair tenderly, "So pretty… pretty, pretty, baby…" he cooed sweetly. "Suck my cock, pretty boy. Suck my cock… beautiful… beautiful… Edward…" he said, his voice gravelly and shaking in anticipation to what was about to happen.

Pretty?

Beautiful?

Huh.

Not exactly a manly statement was it?

Oh well.

Stroking the tip of my finger around the head of his cock, I looked at it properly and smiled as I saw that it quivered with anticipation for what I would do to it next.

His cock was much smaller than mine—thank fuck—with a soft, fine, closely cropped golden-blonde fuzz trailing around its base, and covering his balls.

"Why is your hair so short?" I asked, sounding pathetically inexperienced and childish.

"What?" he gasped out.

"Why is the hair around your cock so short?" I asked again.

"He likes… likes… likes… it… like …that…" he panted out, "Fuck… fuck that now…" he begged. "Don't … don't… worry about that… suck my cock… PLEASE!" he barked.

The head was now an angry, red colour—dark red in fact—and as I slowly traced the visible veins with my finger, I licked my index finger to taste his arousal.

It wasn't too bad to be honest, and I trailed my tongue the entire length before I plucked up the courage to lick his fluid filled slit for the first time.

Humming as I did so, he whimpered loudly, before he started to shake like a leaf before I dipped my head further and blew warm air onto his distended balls. Swiping my tongue in quick sweep over his entire corona he jerked towards me and his cock began to all but sob with the amount of pre-cum that was seeping out of him.

"Oh, fuck…" he said, his brain registering my brief touch, while grabbing my hair tightly in his grasping fingers. He thrust hard against my face as I trailed my right hand up and around his balls, fluttering my fingers gently and he moaned deeply.

Pulling back I grinned at him, "Am I doing it right, Douglas?" I asked as I held his upper thigh with one hand and shoved his legs apart with the other, before I licked my lips, slowly and deliberately, and bit down on my bottom lip, "Is this okay?" I said, grinning.

"You . are . a . fucking . cock . tease, Cullen …" he hissed out, between gritted teeth, enunciating every syllable, precisely, as I stroked my fingers gently along the soft, pulsating skin that ran between his balls and arsehole – of course I now know that this was his perineum, but at the time, it was all unchartered territory for me.

"Have… you… don't… stop… Have… you… don't… this before, Cullen?" he asked, panting, "Because you're doing… shit… fucking… fucking brilliantly…" he finished, gasping out between words.

Although I may have come across as an expert, of course, at the time, I had no idea what I was doing or what I was meant to do either.

After licking his slit again, and screwing my eyes up, I swallowed quickly. I was fucking relieved that he didn't taste horrendous when taken directly from the source either, and then, closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and sucked the slick head of his circumcised cock into my mouth for the first time.

Swirling my tongue around the ridge just below the head, I stroked and tugged his balls gently the same way as he'd done to me previously. In response to this, he shivered and whispered expletives above me.

I liked the way that his cock felt inside of my mouth. It felt smooth and silky, almost like a warm, wet, pulsatingly throbbing plum, and I'd been surprised to find that I was getting fucking excited all over again at the thought and feeling that I was sucking a cock in between my swollen lips.

Pulling back, I stared up at him, without blinking, stuck my tongue out and trailed the flattened muscles up the entire length of him, causing him to whimper loudly, he jerked forwards, gasping in surprise as I repeated my move repeatedly.

Running his fingers through my hair, he began jerking his hips against my mouth as I ran my tongue around his frenulum, and I grabbed his arse cheeks and yanked him closer, thus shoving his pulsating cock further into my hungry mouth as I pulled my cheeks in and sucked firmly.

Rapidly moving my head backwards and forwards, I built up quite a nice, smooth rhythm as he grunted, whimpered, moaned and thrust in time to my movements.

This time, I dug both my hands into his hard cheeks and hung on as he thrust frantically in time with my desperately sucking mouth.

"Pretty…pretty…mouth…" he gasped as his movements became more and more erratic, and his breathing sounded agonised, "Fucking hot, tight mouth…" he groaned loudly.

As the head of his cock bumped the back of my throat, he grabbed my hair in painful handfuls, tugging me closer to him. I gagged just as he came, holding me rigidly in place as he did so.

Salty, milky, watery, oddly musky flavoured liquid flooded my mouth. I let some of it run out of my open lips and trickle onto my chest, but swallowed about half of it down.

Ugh.

That was most certainly _not_ strawberry milk shake flavoured liquid, it tasted more like heavily salted, warm, pureed oysters and it took me all my time not to heave as it continued to pour into my mouth!

Those fucking girls in the local pub had lied to all of us about spunk tasting like strawberry yoghurt—the lying fucking cows.

The taste was more like salty, sticky wallpaper paste, and although I didn't spit it all out, I really had to swallow rapidly to stop my gag reflex from sending the gush that had hit my stomach all the way back up.

It was definitely going to have to become an acquired taste…

Turning my attention back to Doug, I was thrilled to watch as his eyes rolled back in his head as he held my hair tightly, "Edward!" he'd gasped, "Oh… oh… oh… God… Edward… you …you… amazing… I … I love you!" he hissed out as he twitched and jerked against my rapidly moving tongue.

He loved me?

What a load of fucking shit.

He loved my mouth, my tongue, my cock, my 'pretty' face…

Not my heart.

From then on, the thought that love and sex were intertwined was totally disconnected from my psyche.

One was silly and emotional.

The other was a physical need, a requirement, just like breathing.

"You're so perfect, Edward," he whimpered as I trailed my fingers down his upper thighs, "That was amazing…so…fuck…" he said as his cock began to twitch once more.

Standing up, I smiled at him sweetly and batted my eyelashes, before I yanked my jeans and boxer shorts back up and turned around, buttoning the stiff denim up quickly. Smiling at him again, I swung my shoes over my shoulder by their laces, and I walked away without a second glance, whistling and smirking at the effect that I'd just had on him.

He called out from behind me, "Where the hell are you going, Edward? Edward? Where are you going? Don't leave me! Please! Come back, Edward! Edward! Come back! That was the best blow job I've ever fucking had! EDWARD! We need to talk about this! What happens next? When can I see you again? I won't share you with anyone else! I want you to be with me… not with anyone else… D!"

Steeling myself, I inhaled deeply and I resolutely ignored him as I just kept right on walking over the sprawling, perfectly clipped lawns, heading back towards the school's main building, smiling brightly to myself with my chest swelling with pride as his words sank in.

Best blow job ever?

Wow!

Too hyped to eat, let alone talk to anyone, I took myself to my room, ate an apple and did my homework as I tried to calm myself down once again.

The emotions and physical memory of what had just happened to me at the hands of the talented boy – and, what I had, in turn, just done to Douglas – was so overwhelming, that I couldn't sleep that night.

Reliving the entire experience again and again and again in my mind meant that my poor cock never softened. It was worse than it had ever been before and it felt excruciatingly, painfully, hard. And although my hand and the ubiquitous dollop of sticky Vaseline couldn't compare to the feeling of his tongue and the soft, hot, wet suction of his mouth, it was good enough to make me cum repeatedly.

I masturbated so many times that my bedding was ruined and my poor, overly abused cock was rubbed almost raw and was only allowed to rest when I passed out, exhausted.

When I woke up the next morning, I was so tired that I could hardly muster up the energy to clamber out of my bed, the dried, rock hard sheet was stuck to my left arse cheek, and I almost skinned myself alive ripping it off me!

After that night, giving blow jobs to other boys never bothered me.

It was something that I indulged in at every available opportunity to be honest, because the feeling of being able to make them lose control was completely intoxicating—especially the prefects and older boys.

And if I gave… they had to reciprocate.

I even got used to the taste of their spunk and quickly learned to love the various nuances and flavours that the different boys produced. And in all honesty, I really quite enjoyed the way that the hot, sea-like, piquant tasting sticky spurts coated my tongue, to the point that I always happily swallowed and never spat. I was in huge demand because I'd become quite an expert at giving head.

Staring up into their eyes, as they thrust rapidly, and erratically, between my pursed lips, always made them stroke my hair, groan and cum much more quickly.

It became so fucking predictable the way that they all gasped, panted and grunted out the same bollocks about my "pretty face" and how "beautiful" I was, as they poured their hot jizz into my willing mouth.

Everyone single one of them was amazed at the way I could swallow everything they gave me with great enthusiasm and verve.

Some evenings, when I finished my homework and studying, there would be three or four boys waiting for me outside of my room, and I had the art of sucking one cock and wanking two others down to a fine art within two weeks of my first blowjob with Douglas.

And they say that the male of the species can't multitask…

It made me laugh at how pathetic some of the other boy's attempts were when they tried to handle my big cock in their hands, let alone their mouths; the way they tried to lick it – not always even able to get the head in their mouths—and on more occasions than not, I would sigh loudly, jerk my cock away from them and wank myself to orgasm. If they'd failed to at least _try_ to reciprocate with their mouths, I would cum all over their faces and never go near them again.

Selfish fuckers.

I tired of new encounters quickly—the thrill of the chase was much more exciting to me than the actual catching—but because I had become something of an enigma amongst the other boys with my oral and manual abilities, I didn't have to chase very hard.

It had started to lose its 'shiny new toy' status in my mind and was becoming a little bit tarnished, and after having scarcely thought about the glorious Rosalie for several weeks, my mind began to long and yearn for her teasing touch again.

Douglas regularly followed me around, and after I had ignored him for a few days, he would lose control, grab me and pin me against some wall or other—when I let him that is—and after almost shredding my lips with his desperate kissing, he would suck my always willing cock greedily, begging and pleading for me to let him fuck me—but I always declined – having decided after all that anal sex was a step much too far for me – but now and then, I did, however, let him push a finger up inside of me.

He had very kindly purchased a bottle of lube from a cheap sex shop in Windsor to make this intrusion more comfortable, because spit just didn't do it for me, to be honest, and I'd punched him really hard in the quadriceps, thus giving him a dead leg, the last time he'd tried to penetrate me without lube.

The bruise that he'd had on his upper thigh lasted for weeks and he was a bit shocked at my strength.

It felt fucking amazing when I had relaxed enough, and once he had his finger all the way inside my tight muscles—and once my stupid, misunderstanding arsehole had stopped clenching and fighting to shove it back out again. The first time he hit my prostate with the briefest touch of his index finger, I came embarrassingly quickly, shooting geysers of jizz so fast that he choked as it shot downwards and conversely, went up his nasal passages, painfully.

My pride was a little bit dented because by this point, I was becoming more controlling and liked to see how long I could last rather than be the first to cum. I wasn't used to having that bit of control removed from me, so I made him fuck me with his finger and his mouth immediately again—even before my cock had completely regained its hardness.

He was amazed at my imagination and erectile abilities, because within minutes of orgasming, I was always up and ready and raring to go again. I liked to be charge most of the time, and luckily for me, he always did as I told him to.

I loved the fact that he obeyed me without question, so I guess that even back then, I didn't behave like a 'normal' boy.

From then on, he was more besotted by me than ever, and wanted us to be 'an item' as well as for me to be 'exclusive' to him, and not to allow anyone else near me or my cock – even though he was seeing someone older than himself for regular sessions of anal sex.

The fact that I was totally okay with him seeing this man, upset him quite a lot, and he said that as soon as we started to fuck properly, that he would dump him for me.

I didn't care either way to be honest.

But he did, and he used to go absolutely insane if he found me with someone else. He spent an inordinate amount of time having physical fights with other boys trying to keep them away from me – I just laughed at him, kissed him lightly on the lips, and walked away as I did my trousers up, leaving whoever had just sucked me off to the mercy of the growling, jealous ministrations of Douglas, satisfied for the briefest of moments.

After all, I wasn't gay and didn't want to be in a relationship with anyone – well… maybe with Rosalie in my wildest dreams – but least of all with another boy…

And consequently, as a result of his almost overbearing devotion, I only occasionally gave him another blowjob. That level of adoration was a little bit off-putting and quite a turn off to be honest. I gave him hand jobs more often, though, because however irritating he was, he still gave the best head I'd ever had and he could easily cope with my size, but blowjobs? I hardly ever sucked him off again. I rarely wanted to. I loved the feeling of him being desperate for me and the way it felt to keep him hanging and would go down on him when he least expected it.

That thought would make me chuckle cruelly, and more than once, the stinging slap of the realisation that I might just be turning into my father would pull me up, for a couple of days any way, before I slipped back into my descent into becoming a fucker just like him.

Funnily enough, the more detached and cold that I became towards Douglas—and all the other boys—the greater in demand I became.

The more arrogant and non-committal I was, the more they followed me around. I could take my pick of any boy. Although I always came by the bucket load when Douglas or any of the other boys sucked my cock to orgasm, there was no emotional connection. They didn't get me hot and bothered in the way that I somehow expected them too.

Certainly not in the way that my first encounter behind the pool house with Douglas had, in fact.

And certainly not the way my brief touches from Rosalie had made me.

Oh, I got hard, of course I did; I was a fucking horny teenage boy wasn't I?

One smile and I had a hard-on, and I always came like a fucking geyser, but I still felt that there was something missing…

I'd even started to take serious risks trying to crank up the excitement of it all again by having others blow me in more and more public places.

Of course, it never worked. Somehow, we were rarely spotted and even if we were, we were fucking ignored, so after a while, I got bored of giving blow jobs, to be honest.

Sigh.

Even more importantly, I got tired of the way that any of the boys involved couldn't let it go once we'd been intimate in any way, shape or form. Why they couldn't accept a wank or a blowjob as just having an itch scratched and leave it at that amazed me.

Why they had to try and make it into something more than it really was bewildered me completely.

I had taken to hiding from the giggling, drooling gaggles of my conquests because they'd started to either squabble about who I belonged to, or would blab about me and my massive dick to anyone who was willing to listen.

It pissed me off, frankly, because I didn't want to be the talk of the school because of the size of my cock.

They always wanted us to be in some sort of relationship and I, of course, most definitely fucking well didn't.

Eventually, I stopped giving head; I simply refused to do it to my adoring fan club of boys anymore.

Even though I had quite enjoyed doing it, and missed the intimacy of being nuzzled in someone's groin to be honest, I just couldn't be arsed with the constant romantic fallout.

I think, if I had been totally honest with myself, that however much fun I was having, I still yearned after the luscious Rosalie and the fact was, that when many of my conquests were sucking my cock, or sodding well chewing on it as many did, when I closed my eyes, I would see her pillowy lips wrapped around my erection, rather than some spotty, short haired pubescent boy.

Sigh.

Receiving blowjobs, on the other hand…well…that was something else. I never fucking tired of getting them, and I was becoming quite an aficionado…to the point where I kept a little notebook with scores out of ten…

Nasty, I know, but I found it endlessly entertaining to compare techniques. Only those who scored an eight, or higher out of ten, for effort, enthusiasm and ability ever got near my cock again.

Some of the girls from the town were _unbelievably_ bad at performing oral sex, and as shocking as it sounds, the boys were much better at sucking cock than they were.

They obviously did what I'd originally done—gone with their instincts. They concentrated on doing to me what they would want done to them, so they couldn't really fail, could they?

And I'm not ashamed to say that on more than one occasion, when I was getting head from one of these boys and was on the verge of orgasming inside their talented mouths, I would yell out Rosalie's name loudly into the ether.

Occasionally I went for the female option in a bid to make my Rose fantasy even more realistic.

It was always a mistake to be honest, because they were always under the illusion that they were good at oral sex, when in fact they were SHIT.

One of those poor misguided girls, Denise, grabbed my cock in her sweaty, little palm, and rubbed my poor dick so hard, and for so long with her small, burning hot hand, that I had to stop her. Shoving her away forcibly, I'd spent the next hour with a bag of frozen peas on top of my boxer-short clad groin, trying to soothe the raw, hot skin. It didn't help that she frantically chewed on a piece of gum, smacking her lips, the entire time that I tried to kiss her either.

Stupidly, and highly unusual for me too, I decided to give her another chance several weeks later, and that time she enthusiastically slurped and chomped her way up and down my rapidly dwindling erection like a wide mouthed frog trying to swallow and digest a big, fat fly.

That was very disconcerting and a tad humiliating because it was the first time ever that I didn't cum during oral sex and lost an erection.

Douglas, on the other hand, always scored a mind-blowing—and cock-blowing too, come to that—eleven out of ten, for all three of my favourite activities. That was giving head, receiving head and giving the best fucking hand job in town. He could make me cum faster and harder than anyone else could, probably due to the fact that he loved to deep throat me and fuck me with his finger at the same time. None of the other little oiks could do that and I sure as fuck wasn't going to teach them.

Thankfully, I didn't need to look for anyone else, after he left school, as he continued to visit me regularly, even long after he had left Eton to go to Oxford University, to study Philosophy.

He said that I was addictive, like a drug, and that he couldn't stay away, and that he couldn't get enough of me, however badly I treated him.

Every weekend that I wasn't at the Whitlock's, he stayed in a small pub in town. I stayed with him when the mood took me, which was quite often.

He said that I was like his own personal brand of heroin and that he couldn't get enough of me.

How fucking cool was that?

I loved that fucking analogy and we carried on spending 'time' together until I was almost eighteen.

Now and then, I would travel to Oxford and spend the day with him. We would hole up in his digs and spend the entirety of a Saturday or Sunday engaging in oral and manual sex.

My favourite thing was when both of us lay on his double bed, on our sides, and buried our faces in one another's crotches, sucking each other off whilst we stroked and probed whatever we could touch and reach.

Sixty-nining with the very handsome Douglas was fucking erotic and on a couple of occasions we came simultaneously. It was, without a doubt, the hottest thing I had ever experienced. We would wrap our arms around one another's lower back, and cup distended balls or finger the others arse's as we sucked and licked frantically, seeking, needing, release.

So, interspersed with a burgeoning amount of school work, my obsession with receiving both hand jobs and blow jobs never really dissipated.

And then, on most Friday evening's, when I left Eton for the weekend, it was as if a shutter came down, and I left that side of my life behind me too, like my tail coat and ridiculous collared shirt, because it wasn't something that I would have ever discussed with anyone outside of school.

EVER.

…**ooOoo….**

Four weeks after my first blow job with Douglas, and dozens of others from a whole array of other less illustrious mere mortals, I was walking alone, as usual, along the corridor towards the Chapel to deliver something, when I heard a high pitched, tinkling laugh.

Peering around an open door, I came face to face with the prettiest girl, next to Rose, that I had ever seen.

She was small, curvy, well… bigger than curvy to be honest. Plump or rounded I guess you would call her – and pretty – very pretty – with shoulder length, fluffy, wavy red hair. It was the most unusual shade of red, and was really dark—almost blood red in fact and my cock twitched as I looked her up and down.

Shit.

She had on a red dress with white spots that was skin-tight across her large tits, and she had a big, full skirt that stopped at her knees. There was a very tight belt around her waist that made her breasts look even larger and I couldn't take my eyes off of her soft, undulating, milky white flesh.

Wow.

My cock jerked and twitched against my school trousers as I looked her up and down again, feeling something that I hadn't felt for anyone—even Douglas—apart from Rose—real desire.

Her skin was so pale that she almost glowed and she was dotted all over with minute little, pale honey coloured freckles, and her lips were full and a deep tawny pink with an almost lavender tinge.

I decided there and then that she was a natural red-head, despite the obviously fake colour of her hair, because only they have that type of colouring.

As I stared at her large lipped, pouty mouth, watching as she poked her tongue out to moisten her lips, I just knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she would give an amazing blow job.

"Hello," she said, smiling, before she twisted her mouth into an angle and snapped, "Who the fuck are you? This is area is off limits to students, so what are you doing here? And while we're at it, fucker, why are you staring at me and my tits like I'm a piece of meat for you to fucking well eat, dickhead? What the fuck do you want? Why are you here? These are the Chaplain's _private_ quarters, you prick, or can't you read?" she said, aggressively.

My cock jerked in excitement as she stalked towards me.

"Oh!" I said, somewhat taken aback by her blunt, crude and fucking straightforward manner. "I'm looking for the Chaplain," I explained, "I have a message for him from Mr Samuels," I continued, looking her up and down even more openly now. "The PE Master," I finished.

"Well, I'm Jacinta," she said, ogling me in exactly the same way that I was looking at her, "I'm his daughter," she continued, walking around me now. "The Chaplain's daughter I mean, and I can take the message to him, I'm off to see him in the Chapel now. He's busy at the moment, and can't be disturbed because he's preparing for Evensong," she finished, grinning at me.

Fuck.

My cock felt like it'd grown hands was trying to tear its way out of the zip in my trousers, and I bit down on my bottom lip hard.

Two dimples dappled her softly rounded cheeks as she smiled at me, and as my balls tingled, I fought to hold back a groan as she squared her shoulders, making her cleavage look all the more pronounced and delicious. Licking my lips, I began to think what it would feel like to trail my tongue along her voluptuous flesh as she coughed, and I raised my eyes up to hers once more. "And believe you me, I know _exactly_ who Mr Samuel is…" she said, chuckling.

"Okay," I said, shrugging, and handed the letter to her, "Whatever," as I stared at her, stunned.

_THIS_ was the Chaplains daughter?

THIS scarlet, painted, naughty looking harlot was the_ "_innocent looking little blossom" of a daughter that the Chaplain had had the fucking gall to fucking well lecture us about?

Was he serious?

Shit…

As I turned to walk away, shaking my head in stunned disbelief, she followed me to the door, and grabbed my elbow, "Hey, kid, by the way," she said, "What's your name?" she asked.

Turning back, I stopped and stared at her big boobs unabashed, before I looked down into her pretty face, winked and smiled at her broadly, "I'm Edward," I said. "Edward Cullen."

"Well, _Edward Cullen_," she said, thrusting her tits upwards towards my leering eyes, "it's very, very good to meet you." Her eyes dropped to my erection and she smiled happily, "I've heard a lot about you, you're the talk of the school you know? You and that massive thing that you're struggling with in your trousers at this very moment!" she laughed, "You really look exactly how he described you…" she mused, "Very lovely… very lovely…" she continued as she continued to stare at my cock, "And I hope I get to see a _lot_ more of you – much more in fact – in the very near future," she finished, dragging her eyes back to mine. "A whole lot more…"

Fuck.

…**.ooOoo…..**

For the next four days, I was shoulder deep in books as I prepared for my end of term exams, and thought of nothing else but books. Unbelievably, I didn't even wank as I dedicated my every waking moment to making sure that I finished the year at the top of every class yet again. Once more, my competitive nature took over and the thought of coming second in any of my chosen subjects was NOT an option.

And although I would've been much happier to have been balls deep in Douglas's mouth, I was a diligent and well-behaved boy for a very long four weeks while I studied and wrote my exams, because frankly, I just didn't have the time to be anything else.

All thoughts of 'Jacinta' were wiped from my head as I, instead, threw myself into being able to conjugate verbs in every fucking language known to man, fannied about with a Bunsen burner, mastered complex mathematical puzzles, dissected a frog better than anyone else in the room, waxed lyrical with Messrs Shakespeare, Faulkes and Chaucer, and practised, and executed perfectly, the musical pieces of my choice on both the piano and my acoustic guitar.

Strangely enough, I also found that the less time I touched myself, or was touched by others, or even thought about sex, the less erections that I had to contend with.

I still had the ubiquitous morning wood, but I found that a cool shower and going through the Periodic Table, backwards, whilst standing under the water, soon took care of my throbbing cock.

Within three weeks, a mere week after my sixteenth birthday, all studying and exams were over, for the time being, and freedom once again prevailed.

My erections came back with a vengeance and I was like a boy possessed as I ran amock around the grounds of Eton, seeking out any willing mouths and hands available to me.

And of course, there were plenty of those.

Douglas and I had been at one another like rabbits for the last few days, to the point of absolute exhaustion. After meeting me in town, we had gone to his room above the pub and he'd fucked my arse with two fingers for the first time the night before as he sucked my cock all the way down the back of his throat. This had made me cum so hard that I'd seen stars, and when I reciprocated at fucking his arse with my hand, I was stunned at how hot, tight and dry his arse had been and how tightly the muscular ring inside of him had clamped down on my finger when he shot his cum down my throat. He didn't want me to use lube on him because he preferred 'dry fucking' – his words, not mine – and I was worried that I would hurt him. He said he liked the friction more, so I did as he asked. His prostate felt like a little, wizened walnut as I rubbed it in abject fascination and he'd whimpered like a wounded animal when I increased both my speed and pressure.

He wanted to do it again the following night, but I'd declined. I was still very much a loner and needed some space to clear my head after the intensity of this new activity.

Blow jobs were one thing but last night had crystallised something in my mind. Anal sex was definitely on the cards with Douglas, either giving, receiving – or even both – and I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about that.

I'd always been adamant that I wasn't gay, but now I felt a burgeoning possibility of that statement being shit.

Oh, I still found the bodies of girls to be far more attractive than those of boys, in all honesty, but like it or not, I had to face the fact that I might just be bisexual after all, and I needed time alone to think about the ramifications that this might have on my future.

I still loved the hardness of a man's body as it pressed against mine, and one of my favourite activities was allowing my erection to slide along Douglas' and letting the friction make up both cum.

You couldn't do that with a girl, could you?

Having decided, at the ripe old age of fourteen, that the law was the way that I wanted to go after listening to Emmett talking about the fact that this was his chosen career, I'd thrown myself into perfecting every subject with my usual military-style single-minded precision to ensure that the top two universities in the land, Oxford and Cambridge, would both offer me places in which to study.

We talked it over between us, in Jasper's tree house, of course, and decided that if we both were called to the Bar, we would set up a law firm together, specialising in Criminal law. I had the money and the contacts via my family name to be able to do, and be, anything that I fucking wanted to be and if Emmett and I could do this together, why the fuck not?

Basically, for the last two years, I'd worked my arse off ensuring that I managed to achieve my goal.

How would being bisexual, or even possibly gay, impinge on that?

The law was, and is, still a very old-fashioned, closed shop where who you are often counts for more than what you know, and being openly gay is still frowned on. There are, of course, many gay lawyers, but they usually are forced to remain far more discreet than their heterosexual cohorts.

My head throbbed at I spent the next two days thinking about nothing but this and I really couldn't handle being with the loved-up Dougie that evening.

He was in love with me, I knew he was – fuck, he told me often enough – although I also knew that he was regularly fucked in the arse by an older man because it wasn't something that I was ready to try yet, and it was something that he needed – and fond of him as I was, as a sort of friend with benefits, I didn't feel any love for him at all, and I was struggling with how to deal with his emotional demands on me physically and mentally.

Finding the swimming pool block empty after lights out on that Thursday night, I decided to swim myself into an exhausted heap, so that I could sleep without the inner ramblings of my conscience and the physical throbbing of my cock, keeping me awake. After grabbing a towel from my room, I left my quarters and sneaked quietly across the closely clipped, manicured, elegant sprawling lawns, dodging the advances of three older boys who were smoking and touching one another underneath a tree – all ex-conquests who still wanted more – as I did so. I let myself into the darkened, echoing, cavernous space, deeply lost in thought, knowing that whatever I decided to do, Douglas was going to be hurt by me because deep down I knew that I simply couldn't continue our physical encounters any longer.

My senses were immediately assaulted by the stinging, eye-watering odour of chlorine as I pushed through the swing doors, and as I kicked off my shoes, and began stripping off my shorts and t-shirt in the humid air, a low moaning from the changing rooms sparked my curiosity.

Many an enjoyable hand job, and blowjob too, come to that, had happened in between the racks of damp towels and slightly smelly bags in that room, and, chuckling, I sneaked silently through the double swing doors in the hope of catching a couple of 'not gay' prefect pretty boys, in flagrante delicto.

Maybe one would be buggering the other, so that I could watch this act close up for the first time.

That wasn't what I saw.

Oh no, it wasn't…

However, what I saw that night, stopped me dead in my tracks and I would never be, or feel the same – ever again.

…**..ooOoo….**

**WHAT DO YOU THINK HE SAW?**

**HUH?**

**YOU WILL NEVER GUESS, I PROMISE YOU, YOU JUST WON'T!**

**HOLD ON TO YOUR HATS, 'COS YOU AINT SEEN NOTHING YET GIRLS AND BOYS, AND YES, ROSALIE GETS EVEN WORSE!**

**IF YOU ENJOY MY BOY AND HIS ENCOUNTERS AND EXPERIENCES, LEAVE ME A LITTLE LOVE PLEASE!**

**THE NEXT CHAPTER IS NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED AND PLEASE DON'T EVEN BOTHER READING IT IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED BECAUSE THE NEXT TWO ARE MY STRONGEST ONES TO DATE. **

** D**

**PLEASE DON'T BITCH WHEN YOU READ IT AND IT SHOCKS YOU, BECAUSE IT IS AN M+++++++++++++ AND I HAVE GIVEN AMPLE ADVANCED WARNING!**

**REMEMBER THAT THIS IS NOT PORN WITHOUT PLOT, THERE IS A VERY PAINFUL, AND VERY VALID REASON WHY HE IS A BIT OF A BOY/MAN H00R!**


	4. Chapter 4

**If you are under 18, or are of a sensitive disposition, walk away. This is rated MA for strong content and is, therefore, for adults only. It contains references to slash, heterosexual, vanilla and eventually BDSM sex. There are passing references to drugs, alcohol and menstruation. If these aren't your bag, baby, click to another page and sod off.**

**Please remember that the age of consent for full sex, both heterosexual and homosexual, is sixteen in the United Kingdom. Most teenage boys, and girls, experiment LONG before that so think back to your own early fumbling's when reading this and please don't judge too harshly.**

**Everything in this story is either initiated by Edward or is totally with his consent.**

**Every serious sexual encounter in this story is between over age persons and is a consensual, non-abusive, non-forced physical and emotional act.**

**I BLOODY **_**PROUDLY**_** PRESENT:**

**BOYS AND GIRLS**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

"_**Street's like a jungle  
So call the police  
Following the herd  
Down to Greece - on holiday  
Love in the nineties  
Is paranoid  
On sunny beaches  
Take your chances - looking for**_

Girls who are boys  
Who like boys to be girls  
Who do boys like they're girls  
Who do girls like they're boys  
Always should be someone you really love  
  
_**Avoiding all work  
Cos there's none available  
Like battery thinkers  
Count your thoughts - on one two three four five fingers  
Nothing is wasted**_

_**Only reproduced  
You get nasty blisters  
Du bist sehr schen  
But we haven't been introduced  
always should be someone to really love**_

_**Ah ah ah ah ah ah  
Ah ah ah ah ah  
Looking for...  
always should be someone to really love.**_

Ah ah ah ah ah ah  
Ah ah ah ah ah

…**ooOoo….**

**Previously**

**Finding the swimming pool block empty after lights out on that Thursday night, I decided to swim myself into an exhausted heap, so that I could sleep without the inner ramblings of my conscience and the physical throbbing of my cock, keeping me awake. After grabbing a towel from my room, I left my quarters and sneaked quietly across the closely clipped, manicured, elegant sprawling lawns, dodging the advances of three older boys who were smoking and touching one another underneath a tree – all ex-conquests who still wanted more – as I did so. I****let myself into the darkened, echoing, cavernous space, deeply lost in thought, knowing that whatever I decided to do, Douglas was going to be hurt by me because deep down I knew that I simply couldn't continue our physical encounters any longer.**

**My senses were immediately assaulted by the stinging, eye-watering odour of chlorine as I pushed through the swing doors, and as I kicked off my shoes, and began stripping off my shorts and t-shirt in the humid air, a low moaning from the changing rooms sparked my curiosity.**

**Many an enjoyable hand job, and blowjob too, come to that, had happened in between the racks of damp towels and slightly smelly bags in that room, and, chuckling, I sneaked silently through the double swing doors in the hope of catching a couple of 'not gay' prefect pretty boys, in flagrante delicto.**

**Maybe one would be buggering the other, so that I could watch this act close up for the first time.**

**That wasn't what I saw.**

**Oh no, it wasn't…**

**However, what I saw that night, stopped me dead in my tracks and I would never be, or feel the same – ever again.**

…**..ooOoo…..**

Gasping in shock, I fought not to choke as agonising, bleach like fumes filled my lungs, eyes, nose and throat, while I blinked at the sight before me

It was, without a doubt, the most arousing and amazing thing that had ever assaulted my eyes.

The lovely, deliciously succulent, Jacinta was straddling Mr Samuel, facing away from him, with her arms behind her, her large breasts pushed out in my direction, and he was buried balls deep inside her pussy.

I was parallel to them, but hidden behind the double doors. I stared in stunned silence, as they fucked frantically and without restraint in front of me.

My eyes roamed their moving bodies, as I watched paralysed where I stood. His hands clasped and groped her large, soft looking tits as she repeatedly threw her head back and moaned.

Transfixed as I was, my eyes locked onto where they were intimately joined, and every time she moved upwards, almost leaving his body entirely, his wet cock shone in the dim light as it was pulled out of her body, and I was stunned as her pussy then swallowed it whole again.

Her large, round, pillowy looking, light brown tipped breasts were bouncing up and down, and around and around, as she frantically writhed around on top of him, riding his body in desperation.

Rosalie's nipples were much smaller, deep pink and perfect.

Jacinta's were very different. Much, much larger, with huge, pale areolas, and large, cigarette butt sized nubs.

She undulated as she rose up and down, and my fingers twitched to stroke her.

"Harder… Riley… harder!" she panted as she rolled her pelvis with every upward movement, "Faster! Harder! FUCK ME!"

My mouth watered and I yearned to know how they would feel, and taste, in my mouth. Without thinking, my hand dropped to my crotch and palmed my granite hard erection, totally of its own will, stroking along the hyper sensitive head.

Mr Samuel's fingers had now moved downwards, and were dug deeply into her ample hips, holding her firmly as he thrust up hard and fast into her wet body.

"Lean forwards… Jacinta," he said, "Put… your… your… hands on my knees…" he continued as he bent his legs further and spread them further apart.

Her legs were over his and so, as he moved, he opened her up further and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets as I watched him start to move faster.

The wet slapping sounds were fucking amazing, and I squeezed my cock in time with his upward jerks.

The tent in the front of my shorts was so huge, that the seams of my baggy attire stretched painfully across my swollen cock and I fought to control the groan that was seated just at the back of my throat.

His knees were bent and his legs spread wide, pushing her thighs far apart, exposing his large, distended, and painfully heavy looking balls to me. I watched his pelvis move at a frantic pace and his breathing sounded almost asthmatic as he gasped in shaky breaths

Holy fuck.

"Fuck my… fuck my …arse… Riley…" Jacinta gasped,"Fuck … it… big… boy…" she panted and as her fingers moved down to strum her clit with one hand she stroked his balls with the other.

Stunned and instantly aroused even further at the scene playing out in front of me, I dropped one of my deck shoes onto the slightly damp, tiled floor, with a dull thud.

The noise of this faux pas reverberated around the large cavernous space, causing them to stop moving immediately and me to stand frozen to the spot.

"Stop, Riley!" Jacinta said, sounding totally horrified, "There's someone in here! Riley! There's someone in here with us!" she squealed, loudly, "Fuck! Help me off! It could be my Dad! Fuck! Let go of me! Let me up!" she said, sounding hysterical.

"FUCK!" Mr Samuel barked out.

Fucking hell.

Could it get any worse?

"WHO IS IT? COME OUT NOW!" he shouted, "WHO THE FUCK IS CREEPING ABOUT IN HERE AT THIS TIME OF NIGHT?" a loud, angry male voice yelled out loudly, "SHOW YOURSELF, YOU LITTLE BASTARD! I'M GOING TO PUNCH YOUR FUCKING HEAD IN!" he shouted. "WHO IN THE NAME OF FUCK IS IT?"

Shit.

"WHO THE FUCK IS IT?" he bellowed again. "ANSWER ME! IF YOU FUCKING DON'T, I'M GOING TO TEAR YOU APART! WHOSE SPYING ON US?"

Fuck…

Having no choice but to man – well – boy – it up – I answered his demanding bark. "Um…" I said. "Sorry… um… sorry, Mr Samuel," I almost whimpered, "Er… sorry… er… um… that's to… er… say… it's me…" I continued, sounding totally fucking pathetic.

Fear and anxiety washed over me, and my voice quivered and shook, and I sounded more than a little bit scared as my usually, _reasonably_, deep and steady voice broke as reality hit me.

"Who the fuck is 'ME' you stupid fucker?" Mr Samuel barked out. "I CAN'T FUCKING SEE YOU! SHOW YOURSELF! COME ON 'ME' – DON'T BE A TOTAL FUCKING TWAT! COME OUT BEFORE I BEAT YOU TO A FUCKING PULP!"

Shit.

"Oh." I stated, flatly. "Um… right… of course… sorry… of course… sorry… of course you can't," I stammered, "Er… sorry… sorry… er… it's me … err… that's to say… um… sorry… it's Edward."

"EDWARD? EDWARD FUCKING WHO?" Jacinta bellowed.

"YES, EDWARD FUCKING WHO?" Mr Samuel asked, "WHO ARE YOU? HUH? SHOW YOURSELF, BOY!" he screamed into the damp air, "THE FUCKING SCHOOL IS FULL OF PONCY FUCKING EDWARDS!"

Right.

How to deflate my ego even further by confirming that my name was pretty common, huh? That seemed to be the abiding memory of my childhood and formative years. Every time I got built up, someone, or something, would come along and pull the rug of confidence out from underneath my feet.

"Oh." I said, "Sorry… it's Edward. Edward Cullen, Mr Samuel," I finished nervously.

There was no point in lying really, was there?

The immediate silence was almost as frightening as his previously angry growls and my body prickled all over with goose bumps and cold, chilly sweat covered my body.

Should I run?

He was the sports master and could run faster than most of us, so what was the fucking point.

"Sorry…" I whispered again, as I bent to pick up my dropped shoe, with shaking fingers, and stared at them, as they both stared back at me. "I'll just go then…" I continued, "I won't say anything to anyone, I promise…" I finished, even more quietly.

Shoving Jacinta off of him quickly, she squealed as she landed in an unceremonious heap beside him, before he leapt to his feet, strode across the slightly slimy, slippery, wet floor, and stood before me, bare bollock naked with his fists clenched tightly.

Stepping backwards, I inhaled sharply, and held my shoes up in the air in a bid to have some sort of lame weapon, and I thought briefly that he really was going to punch me to the ground.

For the first time, I felt really very frightened and my heart raced in my chest, and a thin trickle of sweat ran down my spine with fear, but I stood stock still, as, frankly, I didn't know what to do next.

My massive erection shrivelled to nothing and my eyes opened even wider as I stared at his clenched mouth.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared at his hands, because, although I might already have become taller and ostensibly more muscular than him, he was much stronger than me, with bulging, sinuous tendons that protruded and wrapped their way around his defined musculature in ways that I could only hope to have one day in the distant future.

Looking down at his face, I swallowed thickly at the inappropriateness of my sudden thoughts, because, with dark brown, wavy hair and vivid blue eyes, and smooth, slightly olive coloured skin – my brain – and cock – registered that he was really quite beautiful…

Stunningly beautiful in fact.

Yes, it's safe to say, I had studied Mr Samuel perhaps a little more than was healthy for a long time now…in exactly the same way that I was only too aware that he'd watched and observed me in turn.

Swallowing hard, I looked down and my eyes widened with a mixture of alarm and desire at what I saw as I roamed his hot body.

His cock was still rock hard, with a dark, angry purple engorged, bulbous head that was pressed firmly against his body and glistened in the half-light, covered in both his pre-cum and Jacinta's pussy juice.

Fuck.

Staring intently, I couldn't take my eyes off his dick and began to breathe rapidly as my chest rose and dropped harder and faster with every inhalation. My prick rose so fast, that I gasped at the feeling as my shaft rubbed against the seam in my crotch.

His erection wasn't as big as my cock – hell I'd yet to meet one that was to be honest – but it wasn't that much fucking smaller and the head was the colour of extremely over-ripe cherries.

Wobbling slightly forwards, I forced myself to stay still because the unbelievable fact was that I wanted to lick it. I wanted to see if he tasted as sweet as he looked and hard as I tried, my eyes refused to move upwards.

Fuck.

"Edward Cullen?" he asked sounding stunned, looking me up and down. "Edward?" he said, after composing himself. "Edward Cullen?" he repeated, but more firmly now, "What the fuck are you doing out of your room? Lights were out an hour ago, and you aren't meant to roam the grounds after hours, you fucking know that!" he continued, angrily, "You've been at the school for fucking long enough to know that fact! Why are you wandering around at this time of night? What are you doing in here? Who sent you to spy on us? The Chaplain? The Headmaster? The Burser? Who, Cullen?"

As he spoke, his cock jerked slightly, making my mouth water even more as it did so, and I couldn't bring myself to look away.

Trying to swallow, my suddenly dry mouth made it impossible to answer his question and I repeatedly licked my dry lips and imagined how the soft, smooth and delicate flesh would feel and taste on my tongue.

"EDWARD – FUCKING – CULLEN!" he barked out, startling me.

Yanking my eyes up his body, I looked to the side where a still very naked Jacinta was bending over with her back to us now, exposing her large – but firm – bottom as she lit a cigarette.

"Huh?" I answered, pathetically as I battled to keep my eyes above his waist.

"Look at me…" she said, and as I did as she asked, my cock jerked and my balls burned in anticipation.

She looked so pale and smooth in the light coming off of the pool, almost luminous in fact, and iridescently perfect and I felt my fingers twitch unbidden; I wanted to touch her as well.

"Well, well, well," she said, turning around and exhaling a long trail of smoke. "It would appear that Mr Cullen is struggling not to stare at your cock, Riley," she said, before she allowed a long, low whistle to escape from her lips. Looking down at my crotch, she licked her lips, and smiled, "I see that I wasn't wrong in my assessment of the impressive size of your dick the last time that we met, Mr Cullen," she finished, before she took a deep puff and inhaled the strong smelling smoke, making the tip of the cigarette glow an angry orangey red in the half light. "I guessed that you were going to be massive," she said licking her mouth this time. "But that's even surprised me!" she chuckled. "Blimey, I know you said he had the biggest cock you'd ever seen, Riley," she continued, "but fuck me, that is a monster, baby!" she finished, looking and pointing between my thighs.

Looking down, I could see that my cock was so swollen and engorged that the head was now protruding out of the waistband of my underpants, level with my waist. It was almost wrapped around my body, past my hip bone, as it tried to fight its way out of its enforced confinement.

"Fucking hell…Cullen…" Mr Samuel said, also staring at my frantic, painfully desperate looking cock as it twitched and jerked in its prison, "That's just…just… fucking… shit… that's…" he stammered. "How the hell…shit…fucking hell…that's just … just… fuck… your…wow…how…God…" he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

My cock throbbed painfully and without realising what I was doing, my fingers slid over the restraining fabric and grabbed the head, tugging it almost painfully hard.

As my eyes roamed Jacinta's voluptuous body, they settled on her large, soft looking breasts and I felt my cock twitch in response.

"Do you like what you see, Edward?" she asked, dropping her still glowing cigarette onto the wet floor, and taking her breasts in her hands.

I gasped as I watched the way that they spilled over her splayed fingers because they were so big.

Nodding pathetically in her direction, she grinned before she continued "Have you ever fucked a real girl? A woman? An experienced woman?" she queried as she stroked her thumbs over her nipples, that are once more erect.

Whimpering, I swallowed loudly as she walked towards me too, her hips swaying seductively.

"Tell me, Edward," she said, quietly, "Do you think that I'm pretty?" she asked, grinning at me as she sucked a finger between her lips.

She really was.

Very, very pretty.

And her curvaceous body was every teenage boys wet dream.

"Do you, Edward?" she asked again, "Do you think that I'm pretty?"

"Yes…" I muttered, my voice cracking in a mixture of arousal, fear and shock. "Yes… you… um… yes… you're very lovely."

"That's nice," she said, brightly, "For being so sweet, Edward Cullen, would you like to fuck me? I'm sure that Mr Samuels wouldn't object to such a pretty young thing usurping him tonight, and he might quite enjoy letting you join in with us and our fucking fun," she said, "Maybe just this once?" she asked, licking her lips once more as her eyes flickered between mine and Mr Samuel. "Would you like that?"

Without even thinking about what I was doing, I'd walked towards her, as if magnetized, "Yes," Mr Samuel and I said in unison, and as I turned my eyes to his, I smiled and continued, "Oh, yes, I would like to do that very much."

"Well, if I let you fuck her instead of me doing it, as I'd planned to do," Mr Samuel said, making me snap out of my testosterone induced delirium and turn to face him once more, "do I get to fuck you at long-fucking-last, Edward Cullen?"

Gasping at his abrupt honesty, I stepped backwards.

Looking him up and down, my balls tingled almost painfully in anticipation.

"Does that frighten you or excite you, boy?" he asked, stopping abruptly as he frowned. "Do you want to leave?"

No, I fucking didn't want to leave!

I wanted him to fuck me.

Simple as that.

He really was a fucking good looking man, so, why not?

He wanted me.

I wanted him.

Why not?

It was only going to be a matter of time until one of the horny prefects pinned me down and fucked my arse whether I wanted them to or not, and if not them, then probably the orally and digitally persuasive Douglas, so why not let Mr Samuel do it first?

Why not let someone who knew what he was doing, do it to me, and do it in the right way? I didn't want some inexperienced nerd fumbling around with my arse and making me bleed in the process, and I certainly didn't want a mere 'boy' to fuck me, when I could have an experienced 'man' instead.

So again I asked myself, why not?

"So. Cullen." he said, calmly, "Do you want me to fuck you or not?"

Turning fully to look at him, I smiled, grinning at his flushed complexion and hooded eyes, "Yes, Sir," I said, shrugging, "Yes. Yes you can, and I think I might just like you doing that to me," I finished, looking him up and down once more, before turning my attention back towards the curvaceous woman now leaning against the tiled wall. She held her arms outstretched towards me, inviting me into the comfort of her cushion-like bosoms.

"Take your pants off for me, Edward," Mr Samuel said, firmly, "Take them off and turn around. Let me look at you. Jace can fucking well wait for a minute to get laid. That is one fucking massive cock you're hiding, unsuccessfully, in there. Let me see it. I've never been able to look at it as closely as I would like, when all the other oiks have been around, and I want to look at it now," he said. "Before you get to touch her, I want to touch you, boy. I want to suck your cock. Tell me that I can do that. Tell me I can swallow your cock because, Edward…" he continued, "I need to touch you… and I bloody well need to taste you…" he muttered, licking his lips and looking me up and down.

Okay!

Looking intently at Jacinta's face, I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my boxer shorts, and began slowly lowering them as I smiled at her stunned expression. Spreading my legs a bit, I bent down, and I exposed my arse hole and heavy balls to the deeply, and heavy breathing man who was shuffling around behind me.

His feet made wet sounds on the chlorine saturated tiles as he moved around, but I ignored him for the moment and concentrated on Jacinta.

Standing upright slowly, the way I did when I wanted to tease Douglas to make him desperate for me, I stepped out of my pants and kicked them away.

Her mouth dropped open as her eyes fixed on my exposed cock for the first time, and she inhaled sharply. "Fuck me sideways…" she murmured as she stared at me.

Then, after one last look at her pretty pussy, curvy hips and large breasts, I took in a deep, shuddering breath, before I turned to face my Sports Master.

His cock seemed harder than ever and was pressed at an angle against his belly, looking as if it was trying to sniff its way towards the nearest pussy – or possibly an arse come to that – in its desperation.

In truth, it probably was.

"Your cock is magnificent, Edward," Mr Samuel panted and wheezed as he circled me, "I know that you've had it sucked on many occasions recently, believe you me, I've heard lots of the boys discussing you and your monster of a prick many times, and I know that Douglas McCrory is desperate to fuck your perfect arse." he stated as he trailed a finger across my left arse cheek,so lightly that I couldn't be completely sure that he had even touched me. "But you haven't let him yet, Edward, have you?" he said, sounding like an emphysema-suffering asthmatic, as he stood staring intently at my throbbing erection. "Why haven't you let him fuck you?" he asked again.

"How… ummmm… er… okay… exactly how…shit…how the …fuck…how?" I stammered, shocked, "Douglas? Douglas told you?" I said, stunned.

"No, Cullen," he finished, as he slowly sank to the floor in front of me, kneeling on the hard, cold wet tiles as he continued staring in abject shock at the size of my erection. "Dougie boy didn't need to tell me about your first time, I saw and heard you one day behind the pool house," he continued, not taking his eyes off of my straining cock, "It was the fucking hottest thing that I'd ever seen," he said as he shuffled forward slightly, grabbing the backs of my thighs, yanking them more widely apart.

Groaning, I leaned slightly back as my body tingled all over at his firm touch.

"You really took control that day, boy," he said, and as he spoke, his warm breath fluttered over my leaking head, making me jerk. "I wanked off more than once when you were ordering Douglas about, let me tell you," he continued. "I couldn't see you properly, but fuck… the noises…" he said, almost whimpering, "The fucking noises that you were both making… they were so fucking hot, that I had to fight to remember your age to stop myself from coming out and fucking you both." he said, sounding desperate now.

Smiling at the effect I was having on this man, I grinned to myself, "Why didn't you then?" I asked, cockily, looking down at him. "Why didn't you come and join us? I doubt that either of us would have minded to be honest…" I muttered as I continued to look down at his leaking cock.

"You are a fucking arrogant little wanker, aren't you, Cullen?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Maybe…" I said, quietly, and the thought that I really was my father's son washed over me, unbidden.

Shit.

"Are you gay, Cullen?" he asked as his hands slid up to cup my arse, pulling my cheeks apart, and all thoughts of my father dissipated. "Are you?" he asked again,"Douglas and I've been fuck buddies for three years, did you know that?" he continued, as I blinked in surprise, "He was, stupidly for me, very underage when we started and it was a fucking insane thing for me to do. We still are, when he isn't following you around," he explained. "He loves you, boy. He really is smitten with you and I know that you love it when he sucks your cock too. I know he gives good head," he said, grinning at me. "Of course he does. He should, because I'm the one who taught him how to do it!" he chuckled. "But I promise you, he hasn't done to you what I intend to do, boy," he murmured, stroking lightly along the outside of the crack of my arse.

Shuddering at both his touch and his arousing words, I thrust gently forwards, unable to control my movements.

"Oh. You and Douglas?" I said, surprised, "I didn't know that…" I said, thoughtfully.

"So?" Mr Samuel demanded again, "Are you gay, Cullen. Answer me," he finished.

"Um, to answer your question as to whether I'm gay?" I began. "No. I don't think so, Sir," I said, "I like girls too," I nodded as I twitched my fingers, wanting to touch his wavy, dark brown hair.

"Thank fuck for that," Jacinta said, surprising me by pressing her warm, pliant body against the back of me, and trailed her sharp nails down the front of my body, making me shiver almost painfully. "I want a piece of you as well, gorgeous. I think, Riley," she said, and I turned my head to the side to see that she was looking at him over my shoulder. "I think that we might have just found a very welcome, and worthy, addition to our fun times together," she said as one finger circled my belly button, making me shudder. "I think it might be fun to have both of those pretty cocks inside my body at the same time," she finished. "Dougie can still join in, but at least I get to have two cocks instead of you having all the fun now," she giggled. "I love it when I sit on your face and Douglas rides your cock, Riley," she continued. "But now I get to have more fun because you know that Dougie boy would rather die, than touch a girl!"

Without a word or movement of warning, Mr Samuel dug his fingers firmly into my arse cheeks and yanked me forwards almost pulling me over, before he lowered his face further and sucked one of my balls into his mouth.

Holy fuck.

At his frantic sucking, laving, lapping and nibbling, I grabbed hold of his hair and shuddered under his firm, unrelenting ministrations.

"Shit, Sir!" I panted out as he moved to suck my other ball, rolling it around in his mouth and lapping at my fuzzy flesh.

The tingling, burning, electrical feeling overwhelmed me and my knees shook in my desperate attempt to keep myself upright as Jacinta's soft body pressed against me firmly from behind. Her hand slithered down the front of my body to my cock and began to pump it slowly but firmly up and down. I dropped my head backwards as her tongue began to lick up and down my spine. Then I let out a garbled and totally incoherent groan as my skin tried to cope with the feelings that were firing around it.

My poor body was in sensory overload, as she suckled my shoulder blade, "Hmmm… Edward…" she murmured, "Even your skin tastes sweet, baby… and so… so… soft…" she whispered as she trailed one hand over my erect nipples.

When she suddenly held my cock still, circling the base as much as she could with her warm podgy little fingers and squeezed, I almost lost my shit.

"Oh… my… fucking…" I gasped out, "Oh… fuck … me…"

"There you go, Riley," she said, chuckling, "Let me hold him still whist you suck him down, baby. Suck your boy's cock at long last. Fuck him with your mouth and let me watch. You know you want to, sweetie. You've talked about nothing else for the last few months," she finished, as Mr Samuel started to lick along my fluid filled slit.

"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!" I screeched out as I thrust my pelvis forward in shock at the feeling of his rough, flattened tongue against my hypersensitive head.

"You taste good enough to eat. Mmmm…and do you know what?" he asked. "That's exactly what I'm going to do to you, boy," he all but growled at me, licking his lips. "I'm going to eat you…swallow you …consume you…" he said, smiling, before he leaned forward and engulfed my entire erection in his mouth. At the same time, his fingers stroked my hairy balls so lightly, it felt as if my flesh was on fire.

Jesus H Christ.

Douglas gave good head, but it was nothing, and I mean _NOTHING_ compared to what this man could do to me.

He sucked so hard that I didn't know whether to whimper in discomfort or pleasure because it almost hurt as he jerked his head backwards and forwards. He moved so fast and furiously, stroking his tongue around my swollen flesh at the same time as he cupped, tugged and gently twisted my bollocks, in rhythmic movements with the ministrations of his desperate mouth. The two different sensations overlapped and left me gasping and panting for breath.

I was concentrating so intently on the burning, tingling sensations that he was forcing out of my body, I hadn't noticed that Jacinta had let go of me and moved away.

A feeling totally alien to me made me open my mouth and inhale and then exhale sharply as my arse cheeks were parted and a silky, slithering, wet tongue licked against my puckered hole for the first time. I grabbed and gripped my Sports Master's hair so tightly that it must have hurt him, as I all but ripped it from its roots.

"Oh, Edward…" she murmured as she scraped her nails down the outside of my thighs. "You really are delicious…" she continued, as Mr Samuel carried on sucking my cock and hummed and nodded in agreement.

As her tongue probed further, pushing its way partly inside my opening, my cock felt like it was being strangled as Mr Samuel swallowed repeatedly around my massive head. He kept taking me further and further down his throat until his nose rested in my pubic hair, making me gasp out loud as he did so.

How could he swallow me all the way down so easily?

As he continued to suck me dry, he started to swallow around my intruding cock and the unrelenting tightening around my hard shaft was so overwhelming that I lost control.

The tingly feeling in my balls erupted into lightning flashing around my nervous system, and I exploded unexpectedly. Arching backwards, thrusting further between his lips, I came so hard – screaming, yelling, clawing and thrusting frantically into his waiting mouth – that my knees buckled and Mr Samuel was forced to hold me up by the backs of my thighs.

What the fuck was that?

Not since my first wank had I felt anything quite as intense and overwhelming as star bursts and sun rays danced before my unseeing eyes and my chest burned as I held my breath for much too long.

It wasn't until I came down from the testosterone laced soup of emotions and sensations, that I realised that there was a peculiar high-pitched screeching noise echoing loudly around the room.

Who the fuck was making that ludicrous sound?

Oh.

Right.

That would be me.

I was making the most stupid noises but I couldn't keep my mouth closed or shut the noise up, as I shook and quivered.

Letting go of Mr Samuel's hair, I staggered backwards and collapsed on top of the pile of flotation aids that were piled up in the corner. I was panting, hot, gasping, overwhelmed, stunned and completely exhausted.

The fact was, I had NEVER cum so hard before and the feeling of euphoric bewilderment was making my brain fuddled and confused. My vision was still blurred as tears trickled down my face, from the intensity of it all

Shit.

"Well, Edward," Mr Samuel said, walking towards me again, wiping his fingers across his mouth before he licked them clean.

Fuck.

His erection was still massive and leaking non-stop like drizzling syrup, as it swayed with his movements. "I think that I've earned a reciprocation suck from those pretty lips of yours, don't you?" he smiled.

Shaking my head slightly to clear my thoughts, I pushed myself up on my hands and stared at him.

"Is that a 'no' boy?" he asked, sounding slightly shocked as his mouth popped open and his tone was more than a little bit disappointed.

Allowing my eyes to roam over his amazing body, I shook my head slowly and stared at his large, twitching cock. Then I licked my lips and looked up at his handsome face, grinning, "Oh yes, Mr Samuel, I _really_ want to do that. I can't wait to suck your cock, and yes, I think that you just might deserve to fuck my mouth, _Sir_," I said, sniggering.

"You are an over confident little fucker, aren't you, boy?" he said, smiling and shaking his head, "But you are one hot, fucking teasing little twat. And, I think that, out of class time only, you should call me 'Riley' from now on, boy," he continued, chuckling. "I've just had your gigantic cock shoved right down the back of my throat, played with your balls, given you the best blow job you've ever had and swallowed all your cum. So, calling me 'Mr Samuel' might just be a wee bit inappropriate from now on, don't you think?" he said, raising an eyebrow at me.

Slithering off of my resting space, I dropped down to my knees and beckoned him towards me, looking up at him through my eyelashes, the way I do to Douglas to get him going, and licked my lips.

The ground was cold, wet, slippery and bloody uncomfortable, but I didn't care one jot. All I wanted was that leaking appendage in my mouth and I wanted it right there and then.

"Well, '_Riley'_ why don't you come over here and let me show you what I can do with _my_ mouth?" I said; sounding like the smart fucker I'd turned into of late. "Huh? You aren't the only one who can suck an orange through the eye of a needle, Sir!" I chuckled, looking up at him and raising my chin defiantly.

"Well, and I say it again, Cullen, you really are an arrogant little fucker, aren't you?" he said, shaking his head and laughing as he did so. "But I might let you have a quick taste of my cock before I fuck your arse, Edward," he said, grinning at me. "I want to be the first one to fuck you there, okay?" he finished.

Nodding, "Yes… I want that…" I whispered, "But right now, Riley, I want to taste you," I explained, as I wrapped my left hand around the back of one of his knees and grasped his cock with my right hand.

Pulling it away from his stomach, I stroked the leaking head backwards and forwards across my closed lips. Then I slid his foreskin up and down, lubricating the thick shaft with his own liquid.

Moving back, I licked his sticky pre-cum from my lips and smiled, because he tasted good – really _fucking_ good in fact, and I wanted more; much, much more.

Opening my mouth, I trailed my tongue across his silky head and he whimpered at my light touch, before grabbing my head and holding it still.

This didn't stop my ministrations as I slithered my warm, wet tongue around his frenulum and hummed as his delicious taste erupted on my tastebuds.

"I've wanted to watch my cock slide in and out of your pretty pink lips for a very long time, Cullen," he said, "Have you any fucking idea how good looking you are, Edward? Huh?" he asked, as once again I looked up at him through my eye lashes. "You could be a fucking model, or even an actor with a face like that. You look like an angel. Only you are more than a fucking fallen one, I'm guessing…"

Grinning up at him, I leaned forward and swiped my hungry tongue across the head of his cock once more, "Tell me what you want me to do to you, Sir?" I whispered. "Tell me… Riley… tell me… I'm inexperienced you know…"

Like fuck was I, but by the way that he shuddered on hearing my words, I knew that by being seemingly innocent was yet another ploy to get what I wanted.

"You are a fucking prick tease, boy," he said firmly, "Inexperienced?" he laughed, "Inexperienced my backside! I know how many blow jobs you've given and received lately, boy," he continued, "I've been watching, and listening, and for lying to me like that, I should bend you over and fuck your arse hard and fast right now." he growled.

Oh fuck.

"But that's going to have to wait, Cullen, because right now I need to fuck your mouth and cum down your throat," he finished, finishing his final word with a garbled sound as I leaned forwards quickly, and took him in my mouth at last.

He tasted different than all the other boys that I'd blown, and I knew that it was partly because the outside of his cock was still coated in Jacinta's almost dry pre-cum. I licked all the way along his shaft before I took the head in between my lips and suckled him.

His pre-cum was slightly stronger and more musky too and he tasted fucking delicious. As I hummed in appreciation, he shuddered violently before he began thrusting and snapping his hips at a rapid pace, forcing his cock to hit the back of my throat, making me gag and retch as he did so.

As my throat battled to close and expel the intrusion, I coughed and heaved, trying to push him away – he was so much bigger than Douglas – and the intrusion of it as it hit my soft palette was borderline painful.

"Let …me… hold …you… still… and fuck… your… pretty… face… boy…" he panted as he yanked my head by handfuls of hair and thrust harder and faster as I sucked him so hard that my cheeks ached. My tongue burned with the feeling of friction as the ridge at the base of his head rubbed constantly against it.

Suddenly, he stilled as his cock twitched and jerked in my mouth. His cum poured into my mouth and streamed down my throat in long, thick, salty, hot streams. I started to cough and splutter, because what I'd done to Douglas previously, Riley now did to me. He held me more tightly and wouldn't let me move to catch my breath.

I fell backwards and as he finally let go of me, he staggered in the other direction, sitting down heavily on the mat, next to Jacinta. He was panting and gasping, as he did so.

Tears, snot and cum covered my face and I dry sobbed loudly as I wiped my nose clean. "Shit…" I gasped out, my voice hoarse and rough. "That was… that was…" I wheezed out as another tear rolled down my cheek. "That was fucking amazing…" I finished as Jacinta stood up and walked to a bag and began rummaging about.

Staring at Riley in amazed fascination, I jumped a little bit as Jacinta bent down and handed me a small bottle of cold water, because I hadn't even noticed her moving towards me. After accepting it gratefully, I swallowed it down in three gulps, panting and gasping as the cool liquid soothed my sore throat. "Are you okay, Edward?" she asked, sounding concerned. "Are you okay?" she said again, worried when I didn't answer her. "Riley is a sexually aggressive fucker at the best of times, but that was too fucking much even for him," she said as she stood up and marched across the room. "FUCKING ARSE!" she bellowed as she stabbed one little stubby finger against his bare chest. "He's a fucking _virgin_, you fucking knob-head!" she yelled at him, slapping him firmly around the upper arm. She stuck her two fingers up and turning around, she walked back towards me, swinging her round hips as she did so.

Looking across at her and then at him, I swiped the back of my hand across my mouth and grinned, "Don't worry about me, Jacinta!" I laughed. "I rather liked it like that," I said. "I like it hard and fast myself. And all I want to know now, is," I said, laughing, "Is that the best you can do, Riley?" Then I said, "Fuck, even I can give better than that!" making them both hiss out in shocked surprise at my bravado. "And, _Jacinta_, I might not have fucked yet, but I've fucked countless mouths and had my mouth fucked at least the same amount of times, so less of the _dicking virgin_ jibe, okay?" I said sharply.

Gasping in surprise, Riley suddenly stood up and strode towards me. He grabbed my upper arms and dragged me up onto my feet, shoving me firmly against the ice-cold, tiled wall. Holding me with a vice-like grip, he said "Is that a fact, Cullen?" while grinning menacingly. "You think that you can fuck my mouth harder than that, do you, boy?" he hissed out. " Are you throwing down the gauntlet to your superior, lad? Well?" he asked, "Are you?"

The way that he had dominated me, had been breathtakingly different. Douglas had always been gentle with me, even when I'd almost suffocated him, the first time he sucked my cock. I hadn't let him breathe as I came, but he didn't get pissed off. He always did what I told him to do.

With Riley it was obviously going to be very different.

Instinctively, I just knew that like me, he knew what he wanted and just took it. As he held me by both my arms painfully hard, I shuddered under his firm touch.

Fucking hell.

My cock was suddenly flat against my belly, rock hard in two seconds flat – within the blink of an eye, in fact. Riley grabbed it tightly in his right hand and began moving his hand quickly, pumping me almost painfully hard. His dry digits squeezed tightly, and I groaned, throwing my head against the tiles with a loud thump.

This new type of pain, only added to my arousal and I whimpered more loudly.

"It seems that you really do like a bit of rough stuff, don't you, Mister Cullen?" he asked.

As I nodded, he growled out, "Right. Do it. Do it now," he said, staring at me intently as his cock rose to rub deliciously against mine. "Fuck me anyway you want to, Edward," he demanded. "Make it hard and fucking make it fast. You can't hurt me. Do whatever you want to me, I can take it," he whispered. "I want this," he said, "I WANT YOU!" he said loudly.

Hurt him?

Why in the name of fuck, would I want to hurt him?

The thought of hurting him, sent a I shudder of adrenaline and testosterone through my over-aroused body. Without another conscious thought, I yanked my arms out of his grip, spun him around, grabbed his hands, and pulled his arms above our heads.

An overwhelming surge of strength took over, and I pinned them there, as I hurled him against the hard wall and crashed my mouth onto his, forcing our mouths together for the first time.

Riley opened his mouth to me, with a shocked hiss and without giving him a chance to move his tongue, I shoved mine into his mouth first. I rotated my pelvis, before I began to thrust up and down, grinding my erection hard against his. I made him groan out loud as our mouths battled and duelled for dominance, with me thankfully, the winner.

Sucking his tongue, as our cocks danced and slid together, he groaned out an agonised moan. I repeatedly held his struggling hands and banged them off of the walls, as I forced him to remain submissive to my dominant stance.

After he let out a rasping and garbled groan, his movements became more erratic and jerky as he writhed against me. Gasping for breath, I pulled back and stared at him, shocked at the effect I had on this amazingly experienced man.

I had no fucking idea what to do next.

"Well?" he said, thrusting against me again, "Why the fuck are you stopping? Huh?" Trying to free his hands from mine, he yelled "Don't stop! I want you!"

Without thinking, I said, "Fuck me… I don't want to fuck you, Riley… not yet anyway. I want you to fuck me. I want you to be the first one to fuck my arse…" I pleaded, as I leaned forwards and kissed him lightly on the lips.

Loud whimpering made me lose my train of thought and as I looked to the side of me, Jacinta was lying on her stomach, with her hand invisible from my position.

It was very obvious, that her missing hand was wedged between her thighs. She frantically rubbed her desperate body up and down on the padded gym mats, whilst watching us with heavy lidded eyes, as we grappled and groped one another.

His eyes opened wide and he inhaled sharply as he gripped my fingers, yanking me forwards. "Fuck…" he moaned out, his eyes glancing quickly between Jacinta masturbating and my face.

Groaning loudly, he kissed me passionately once more, sucking my tongue this time, initiating and controlling the kiss as his hand dropped downwards to stroke my balls gently.

Without warning, he turned me around quickly, flattening me against the cold wall again, only this time, he pressed my straining cock against the chilly tiles. He grabbed it and slid his hand backwards and forwards, wanking me slowly, languidly and expertly as his cock pressed against my lower buttocks, driving me to the point of lust raddled insanity.

"You want me to fuck you, do you, little boy?" he asked, grunting as he kicked my legs apart.

"God, yes..." I whispered as best as I could with the side of my face pressed firmly against the wall I pushing my arse out, and jabbed it firmly against his sticky cock. "Yes. Fucking yes! YES! I really do," I wailed plaintively and desperately.

Pulling back, Riley let go of me abruptly, and I almost fell over. I turned around and watched him, more than a little bit confused, as he briskly walked across the hard floor, to stand beside Jacinta once again.

She was flushed and panting, humping frantically against her hand. "Stop fucking your fingers, Jace," he said. "Stop doing it to yourself and turn over, baby." Riley smiled at her saying, "I don't want you to cum like that. Not this time, and definitely not when there are two cocks desperate for you."

Breathless and sweating, she yanked her hand free and rolled over, doing as Riley had told her to.

She was pink, flushed and glistening in the half light. He grabbed her wet, slick fingers and sucked them into his mouth and sighed at her taste. "God… baby…" he whimpered, as she groaned and panted desperately, "So wet… so fucking good…"

"You two fuckers look so hot together… fuck me now, Riley… PLEASE… fuck me NOW!" she demanded and as he kissed her fingers, my heart sank.

Feeling excluded and isolated, my cheeks burned in humiliation as I watched their interactions. "You don't want me?" I asked, quietly, sounding – and feeling – totally stunned, "Don't you want me?"

"I want to fuck you, Edward," he said, surprisingly quietly. "You have no fucking idea how much. But I'm not doing it in here. Anal sex isn't something to do lightly, especially when you haven't done it before. No. No. I'm not fucking you for the first time like this. I want it to be right. I've waited months for this, Edward – years in fact – and I want it to be right. Tomorrow. Not tonight, baby. Tomorrow. We'll do it tomorrow, somewhere more comfortable… somewhere alone… somewhere private… somewhere that you can scream as I pound into your arse and make you cum… and we won't be disturbed…" he said, smiling at me with jet black eyes.

Tears of disappointment sprang to my eyes, and as I stood and gaped, he began to stroke his erection in front of me again. "You don't want me…" I stated again, flatly, as a feeling of sharp, stinging shock washed over me.

Rejection again.

When it came to sex – well oral and manual sex, anyway – I reigned supreme at Eton College and here I was, being crushed down to size by the one man that I had really ever wanted, in exactly the same way that my family had always done to me.

Immediately, my erection started to subside and I stumbled across the room, with an errant and traitorous tear escaping from the corner of my eye. Looking down, I quickly bent to pick my clothes up so that I could dress as fast as humanly possible, and scuttle away, humiliated.

As I stooped, two hands grasped my hips and yanked me upright.

"You have no idea HOW much I want you right now, Edward," he rasped as he trailed his tongue down the side of my neck, and pulled our bodies flush before his hand snaked inwards to grab my deflated cock.

"Do you really want to lose your anal virginity in a grubby locker room?" he asked gruffly. "Do you want to be surrounded by Athlete's Foot inducing bacteria, wet towels, as well as the stink of bleach and old plimsoles, when it happens? Well? Do you?"

Turning to face him, I stared into his deep blue eyes and nodded, telling him the absolute truth, "Yes. Yes I do. I just want you to fuck me. I just want you to make me _feel. _I need you…"

"Well I won't do that," he said simply, shaking his head firmly, "Not here. I need it to be special between us, even if you don't. Come to my rooms tomorrow evening. 7:00 p.m. I need it to be just the two of us when I take your virginity, Edward. I've waited this long, I can wait another twenty hours, boy, and hopefully so can you. And just to let you know…" he said, as he licked up and down my neck, "I'm going to fuck you so hard and so often," he continued, as he peppered my jawline with gently sucking kisses, "that you won't be able to walk in a straight line… or sit down comfortably…" he murmured, making me whimper loudly as his words sank in, "For days…"

Oh God...

Whimpering, I turned around and wrapped my arms around his shoulders before I licked along both of his lips, and just as he opened his mouth to permit me access once again, a smaller, warmer hand slid along the crack of my backside lightly.

"Do you want to fuck me too, Edward?" Jacinta asked, standing in beside me now. "Do you want to fuck my dripping, wet pussy?"

Turning my face towards her, I nodded. "Yes," I stated simply, staring at her.

"You want to lose both your virginities on the first night do you, you greedy boy?" she asked, rubbing her large nipples firmly with the palms of her hands.

Walking backwards, she beckoned me to follow her, grinning as she did so, lying down on the thick pile of gymnastic mats once again, and as if hypnotised, I pulled away from Riley, turned, and followed her.

"Have you ever touched a girl, Edward?" she asked, quietly as she pulled her knees up.

"Yes," I answered.

"That's good!" she said excitedly, "Have you touched tits like mine before? Have you looked at a girl's pussy properly? Have you?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at me.

I immediately shook my head. "No, I've fingered a couple of girls, and had blowjobs from a few, but they don't suck cock as well as boys, so it wasn't all that," I say, honestly, shrugging.

"Well, you haven't had me suck you off yet, Edward," she said as her fingers began to pinch her nipples. "I promise you, baby, I can suck every bit as well as Douglas can… after all, I had the best teacher in the world too…" she finished, grinning at Riley.

"You taught her too?" I asked, looking at Riley.

"Yes," he said, shrugging again. "I took her virginity, boy, the same way as I took Douglas' and I'm going to take yours…" he said, looking at me intently. "I only choose the best, Edward and you will become a master of fucking if you listen and learn."

Oh God.

"We've been fucking since I was fourteen," Jacinta said, chuckling sweetly, "Riley was my first lover." she explained simply, "But not my last…" she said, turning to look at me and smile.

Fuck.

"Do you prefer boys?" Riley asked, as he stroked one finger down the crack of my arse making my cock instantly harden again. "Is that it, Edward? It's okay if you do, nothing to be ashamed of, I do too most of the time. Jace is the only girl who makes me feel the way that she does. I wanted her from day one, the way I did with you. I've never felt like that about a girl before…" he finished, smiling at her.

"No," I said, "I don't _think_ that I prefer boys," I continued, "Well… I mean, I do like boys, I like them very much, but I like girls too. I like them a lot, but there hasn't been much opportunity to experiment with girls in the way that there has been with other boys," I explained. I turned to look back at Jacinta once more. "I like how a girl feels though…"

"Well, pretty boy," she said as a grin lit up her pretty face, "there is plenty of opportunity to experiment now," she said, giggling as she shuffled back onto the mats properly. She pulled her knees up further, as she spread and opened her thighs, dropping them to the sides, completely revealing her pussy to me for the first time. "Now, I promise you," she said, breathlessly looking down at my leaking cock as she stroked her fingers backwards and forwards through her wet slit, "You can do ANYTHING you like to me, baby," she finished.

Whimpering, I turned to look at Riley, and he grinned at me, nodding, "Jacinta is… um… how shall I say… Edward?" he mused, "Er…most _obliging – _I guess you could say_,_ when it comes to sex. Nothing is off limits. She likes to try everything, don't you, baby?_" he_ finished, as he stroked lightly over the fuzz that covered my arse cheeks and I shuddered.

Shit.

"Yes…" she whispered before she spread her pussy lips wide with one of her podgy hands. She then used one index finger to pull the tiny hood back, exposing the deep pink, swollen little button that was her clitoris. I knew this from biology classes with Miss Katz, who in all her desperate glory, repeatedly pointed out the clit and g-spot to a roomful of horny fifteen year olds, as she resolutely stared in my direction. I even learned about women from the porn movies and magazines that we all smuggled in. I'd also gleaned a lot of information by listening in to conversations with the other boys, in the common room.

I knew, for example, that you shouldn't press too hard or too soft and that you should let a girl's noises guide you as to whether you should do more or less to them.

Moving closer, I'd stared at her ginger, tightly cropped pussy hair and looking up, I smiled at her and winked, because, Jacinta dyed her hair from ginger to blood red, just as I had thought. Those lavender lips were a dead giveaway and as I looked up at her mouth, she licked her lips with a rapid little tongue.

Allowing my eyes to slide down her body once more, I stared intently at her crotch. I breathed in and then groaned at her amazing scent, as well as the fact that her pussy looked puffy, glistening and swollen. They never looked like this in an anatomy and physiology book, or even in a porn magazine.

She was beautiful, like the vibrant petals of an orchid or rose and I immediately wanted to touch her.

Tentatively, I reached out with one finger and stroked along her slick groin. She shivered as I moved my hand downwards and discovered that she was so wet, even her upper thighs were sticky and they glistened in the half-light.

"Stroke my lips, baby," she murmured, "Finger me… touch my clit…" she continued as her hips began to move as I stared at her. "Suck my clit, Edward," she said, "Fuck me with your lips and tongue. Make me cum with that pretty mouth of yours. Make me squirt if you can. I fucking LOVE to squirt!" she laughed loudly, "You do know how to eat a girl out, don't you?" she asked smiling. "You have done it before, haven't you, baby?"

Fuck it all.

That was one thing that I really _didn't _know how to do, apart from anal sex, so I decided to be honest.

It was something that I really wanted to learn and by lying, I wasn't going to do that.

"No, I don't know how to do that," I said quietly, blushing and looking down, embarrassed. "I know how to give a fucking good blowjob," I continued, turning to look at a sweating Mr Samuel, whose mouth dropped open on acknowledging my words. "But I don't know how to eat a girls pussy out," I said, shrugging as nonchalantly as I could.

"Shit…" Riley said, as his chest rose and fell more rapidly than ever.

Smirking, my breaths were now coming in openly, rasping pants, I continued, "In fact, I love to suck a cock, Sir, as you now know," I said, smiling at his now contorted face. "But I don't know how to make a girl cum with my mouth or fingers," I explained. "I licked my finger after I fingered a girl once," I said. "It tasted nice, and I would like to make a girl cum with my tongue and lips…" I finished.

Shit.

That had sounded childish even to my own ears…

Seeing the very obvious effect that I was having on Mr Samuels, I decided to go for broke and switch on the charm to see how it would affect the fragrantly lovely Jacinta.

Turning back to her once more, I smiled sweetly, "But, no, I don't know how to fuck a girl with my mouth. Well…I don't know how to fuck a girl at all, really, and I think that it's time I learned. Don't you think I should learn?" I asked, widening my eyes slightly and pouting my lips.

She inhaled sharply and her face flushed as her nipples hardened more than ever. Despite being a huge ego boost though, disappointment had washed over me like a cold wind, at the realisation of how fucking predictable both men and women are. One little bit of flattery and they are putty in your hands.

Sighing, I forced a smile on my face and continued, because, after all, I'm my father's son and I basically wanted to fuck and be fucked. I did and would do anything, to achieve my goal. "Will you show me, Jacinta?"

"You really do know how to suck cock very well, Edward," Mr Samuels had said. "I can't believe that you don't know how to eat a girl out as well? I know Douglas was your first blow job but you are really good at it. Have you learned to suck cocks so well, by blowing other Master's, Edward? Have you done that?"

"Of course not, Sir," I said, firmly. "Only with other students," I finished, looking at him though slightly lowered eyes. "You are the only Master that I've sucked off..." I continued, "...and the only one I want to do it to," I finished honestly.

Grabbing me again, he spun me around and frantically kissed me, sucking, biting, nipping, chewing and laving my tongue, gums and lips with his, as he dug his fingers into my biceps, before he yanked back, gasping, "I can't fucking resist you, Edward!" he panted as he dipped forwards again. Throwing my head back, I groaned loudly as he sucked and bit my neck, jaw and shoulder painfully hard and made me almost scream out in desperation as he marked me as his.

"Touch me… Edward… please… pleeeease …" Jacinta said quietly from behind us – sounding absolutely desperate – and as I pulled away from Mr Samuel, I turned around once more, and was stunned to see her head thrown back and her mouth hanging open as she thrust two fingers in and out of herself quickly frantically. "If one of you bastards doesn't fuck me soon, I'm just going to make myself cum…"

"Holy fuck…" I muttered barely audibly.

The squelching, wet sounds coming from her pussy made my cock vibrate with need and I groaned as her arm started to move faster. "I can't wait… to be fucked… any… fucking… any longer… I need one …of you. Either of you. Both… of you. I don't… don't …fucking care which! I need… a cock… inside… of me… right …now! Fuck me! You've… both cum… help me… please… I'm… fucking desperate! Please!" she gasped out.

"You can fuck her first, Edward," Riley said decisively, stroking my aching balls from behind as he pressed his whole body against the back of me. "She has a fucking amazing pussy – I promise you, you won't be disappointed, baby," he murmured as he lightly slid a finger along and around my cock. "She can almost suck the spunk out of you with those tight walls," he said turning me in his arms again. Pressing his cock firmly against mine, he pulsed against me, before he began to slowly and languidly kiss me, sucking my tongue, "And once is never enough for my baby so there will be plenty left for me when you've filled her up."

Fuck.

Fill her up…

Walking away from him, I almost ran back across the room and bent down, before I grabbed her hand, and pulled Jacinta's fingers from inside her and lifted them into my mouth, the way Riley had done before me, and whimpered as her flavour coated my tongue.

She tasted stronger than the other girl had, and there was so much more of it, but it was still okay and I slurped and sucked hard.

"Fucking hell, Cullen!" Riley exclaimed, "Don't you have nerves about trying anything for the first time?" he chuckled.

Turning to smile at him, I licked my lips and shook my head, "No, not really," I answered shrugging easily and replying honestly, "I want to try everything in life," I finished, as I shrugged once more.

"Teach him, Riley," Jacinta said, huffing and almost panting now. "Show him what I like! Do it! I'm tired of fucking waiting! Do it now, or I will just fuck myself!" she demanded.

"Sit up Jace," he said, "Sit up and kiss him. Edward get on the ground and kiss her, boy," he demanded, "Just wait," he continued as he instructed Jacinta, "He kisses fucking brilliantly already, you'll love it," he finished.

Wow.

Dropping to my knees, I knelt on the padded mats before her and, without a word, she did as she was told, she sat up more, and gently licked her tongue across both my top and bottom lips, making me shudder, before she swirled around the inside of my mouth and sighed.

"Mmmm," she moaned, "Such a pretty mouth, baby, and you taste of my darling Riley's cum," and, as I inhaled sharply, she opened her mouth and we kissed for the first time.

It was far less frenzied and much gentler than kissing Riley or Douglas usually was. It was soft and deliciously erotic and as I put my arms around her shoulders and waist, she shuffled closer, wrapping one of her legs around my waist.

Dropping backwards, she pulled me down with her until we were lying flat on the mats, with me pressed on top of her, still kissing.

After the longest time, I pulled back and stared at her.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked breathlessly, trailing one finger down her neck towards her full tits.

"Whatever you want to do, baby," she said again, leaning forwards and kissing me again, "Touch me everywhere. Do everything you ever wanted to do to a girl," she whispered as she kissed me again, before she licked along my bottom lip. "God, Edward," she moaned, "Did anyone ever tell you that you have the loveliest mouth," she said quietly as she traced a finger across my lips.

"Eat her out, Edward," Riley said firmly, "I want to see you eat her out. Fuck her with your tongue, boy. She tastes good on your fingers… fuck," he said, "Wait until you drink form the source, baby." he groaned.

Nodding, "God yes…" I whimpered in agreement, before I leaned forwards again and began to lick a trail down over her collar bone and sucked the soft skin of her big breasts.

"More, Edward!" she groaned as my mouth moved southwards and I began to suckle on one of her rock hard, large nipples, whilst groping her other one with my wide spread palm, pushing it inwards, kneading and tugging at it firmly.

All the times that I'd looked at Rosalie's tits and wondered what her nipple would feel like against my tongue and now I fucking well knew. Tracy's were nothing compared to this!

These were 'proper' tits – big, soft and amazing – and I was in fucking heaven.

Her nub puckered even more as I sucked it gently.

It felt hard, but soft – just as I had described to Jasper and Emmett all those years before – just like a frozen raspberry.

Pushing my face into her cleavage, I pressed both of her tits inwards until I felt like I was being suffocated by two feather pillows.

My hands couldn't hold them completely, and they spilled like uncooked dough over the sides of them and through my fingers.

Moaning, I nuzzled, nipped and licked my way down her body and pressed her legs widely apart. Holding onto her upper thighs with my flattened palms as I used my body weight to pin her flat against the padded mat, opening her completely, I stared at her soaking wet pussy and froze.

Now what?

Lifting my head up, I stared first at her and then turned around and looked at Riley with wide open eyes.

Shit.

"Just do… whatever you want… to, Edward," she said, gasping, "Don't… be scared… please… please… touch me… please… do it," she moaned. "My pussy is wonderful… it tastes even better than it looks… please… lick me…"

Swallowing thickly, I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply and nodded.

Leaning down, I kissed a little circle of tiny kisses around the circumference of her belly button before I swirled my tongue over and inside of it repeatedly.

I must have been doing something right because her pelvis started to buck upwards, as she tried to meet my mouth.

Smiling at her desperate whines, I slowly trailed small, wet, sloppy kisses downwards until I nuzzled my nose through her trimmed pubic hair and inhaled deeply.

She smelt musky and delicious and without thinking, I poked my tongue out and swirled it around the top of her clit lightly.

She jerked beneath me like a beached fish and, pressing her down more firmly, I pulled back a little to allow myself to see her most secret place properly for the first time.

"Hold yourself open again so I can see you," I said, staring at her pretty pussy, "I want to see you… I need it…"

As her breathing hitched, she did as I asked and pulled her lips apart, exposing her engorged, wet clit completely to my hungry eyes.

She was beautiful, and I was stunned to see that, when it was erect, her clit looked just like a tiny little cock and was visibly throbbing in need. It was bigger than the ones that I had seen in books and I was amazed at how deep a shade of pink that it was. It seemed to darken more every time she moved her hips.

"God… that's so pretty…" I whispered as I continued to stare at it intently.

"She really does have a lovely pussy, Edward," Riley said. "You'll enjoy fucking it, boy," he finished, and I smiled at him. I took a deep breath and lowered my face, before I started to slowly lick her pussy, all the way from her urethra to just above the hood of her clit. "She's a wanton little whore too," he said, chuckling, "She's never fucking satisfied. She wears me out every day!"

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!" she squealed as she started to thrash beneath me, "Fuck! Edward!" she continued as she bucked up to meet my willing mouth.

Grunting, I pushed even harder on her inner thighs, digging my fingers deeply into her warm, pliable flesh. I twirled my tongue around and around her nub, and slid it up and down, increasing the speed and pressure before I slowed down again. I licked up along and inside of her folds repeatedly.

She jerked up against me frantically and her body shook in desperation and need but no matter how much she begged and pleaded me to do more, I continued to fuck her at my own pace, learning exactly what pressure and stroke made her make the most noise and movement.

"Fuck…" she whimpered as I licked faster and harder, "So …fucking… good… sooooo… fucking… fucking… oh God… so…" she moaned out, "More… who taught you? You said… fuck… you said…"

"Suck her clit, Edward," Riley instructed firmly, "Suck it, just like you sucked my cock, boy," he said, "She likes it hard!"

Taking another deep, calming breath, I pursed my lips and sucked her throbbing little button between them firmly, managing to run my tongue up and down it whilst sucking even harder.

It felt, and tasted wonderful – just, as I said – like a miniature cock – and I knew how to suck those, didn't I? So this should be a doddle!

"FUCK!" she squealed, starting to thrash beneath me, and without knowing why, I stroked my fingers backwards and forwards through her wetness. Then I pushed first one, and then two fingers inside her hot, wet, tight pussy, twisting them tightly and started fucking her with them, hard and fast.

"Good boy, Edward," he praised. "Very good!" he continued as he knelt down beside us and put his face close to my hand, on Jacinta's upper thigh. "You're a fucking natural at fucking, Cullen," he said.

As she threw her head back further, he chuckled at her desperate, whimpering sounds, "Well done, she loves that. Now, crook your fingers," Riley said, "Like you're calling me over from the far side of the room, and find some rough feeling skin. That's her g-spot and she fucking loves it when I rub that," he continued. As I lifted my face away from her, scowling, I licked my lips and groaned at her stickiness and arousal. He then demonstrated with his own fingers.

"Oh," I said, pulling my fingers out from inside of her and practised briefly by waving my coated digits around in the air, "Like this?" I asked, frowning.

"DON'T FUCKING STOP FUCKING ME, EDWARD!" Jacinta screeched loudly.

Smiling, he nodded, "Shut up Jace!" he laughed, standing back up and walking across the room to grab a bottle of water. "If you want him to make you cum, fucking shut up and let me teach him where your fucking g-spot is!" he said, laughing louder. "Yes, Edward, just like that," he said, "and keep sucking. She needs dual stimulation to be able to cum with oral sex usually. One type of stimulation alone rarely does it for her. And," he continued, walking to stand closer to me, "don't stop no matter how much she pleads and begs you to do so," he finished.

Without giving her any warning, I pushed my middle and ring fingers back inside her pussy again, and I turned my hand around so that my fingers pointed upwards. I rested my pinky and index fingers on her groin, on either side of her swollen lips. I then began to thrust them in and out rapidly, rubbing and curling them repeatedly against the little rough patch that was hidden deep inside of her, making her jerk and squeal with every inward stroke.

Riley leaned forward, taking one her nipples into his mouth and I did the same, ensuring that she bucked beneath us. Suckling hard, I then began to flick my tongue rapidly over the engorged flesh, in time with my thrusting fingers, as my thumb automatically rotated her clit firmly.

Gasping and whimpering under our dual assault, she shuddered, whimpered and writhed and, when Riley bit deeply into the ripe flesh surrounding one of her nipples, she yelled even louder. Within minutes, Jacinta's internal muscles clamped down on my digits causing the most amazingly strong, contracting and rolling suction.

"FUCKING…FUCKING…FUCKING…FUCKING… !" she screamed out into the silence of the room and it reverberated terrifyingly into the echoing space, "CUMMING! CUMMING! CUMMING…CUMM…OH…OH… OH… GOD… HARDER…EDWARD! HARDER… FUCK… CUMMING SOOOOO HARD… I'M FUCKING CUMMING … SHIT… CUUUUUUMMMMMMINGGGGGG…"

She arched and ground repeatedly against my invading hand, flushed from head to toe. A light sheen of sweat made her almost sparkle in the dimmed room. The blush spread from her face, covering her all the way down to her tightened nipples as she writhed on the floor.

I'd NEVER seen anything as erotic or so beautiful and I watched her in awed reverence as she quivered, twitched and jerked beneath my hand.

So strong were the contractions that I could no longer move my fingers and as she wrestled through her desperately needed orgasm, she yanked my hand closer to her spasming pussy, as she bucked and squealed beneath me.

Riley merely smiled and said, "Keep going, don't stop fucking her," before he clamped his mouth firmly onto mine, battling my tongue with his, while squeezing her left tit with one of his hands.

Pulling back, he yanked my fingers from inside Jacinta's still pulsating, warm and willing body. He sucked them into his mouth, and hummed appreciatively at the taste of the sticky cum that covered my digits.

Moving back, he looked at me and grinned, "My beautiful girl tastes so good…always so good…" he murmured, smacking his lips appreciatively, "Now, Edward," he continued, turning his attention back to me once more, "I want you to fuck her," he said as he trailed his lips down from my hairline and sucked the back of my neck firmly once again, pressing his body against the back of mine. "I want to watch your big, thick, beautiful cock as it slides in and out of her pussy. Can you do that for me, boy?" he asked.

"Oh God…" I groaned loudly, "I want that…"

Pulling me apart slightly, he pressed forwards until his cock rested in the crease of my arse cheeks and he began to slide up and down my crack making me whimper.

Reaching around me, he trailed a finger around the head of my throbbing dick. "Fuck her, baby," he said again, his tongue probing my ear. "Fuck her. Go on. Fuck her with your big, swollen, virginal cock and I'll fuck your arse with my tongue and fingers, pretty boy," he growled, as his pre-cum lubricated his movements. "Would you like that? Would you like to cum inside my angel's tight, hot, pussy? Do you want to fill her up with your creamy cum?" he asked.

"YES!" I yelled, breathlessly.

Without further ado, I clambered all the way up the padded mat and, grabbing her knees, I forced Jacinta's quivering legs widely apart once more. "Fucking open your legs more! Fucking well do it!" I yelled, as I shimmied our crotches closer together.

"Come on, baby," she moaned, "Push that fucking giant cock inside of me," she continued as she raised her pelvis up to me repeatedly. "I want to cum on your cock," she whispered, smiling.

Groaning, I wrapped my left hand around my twitching cock and squeezed. Moaning out loud at the delicious feeling, I lined it up with her opening and shoved the head of it all the way in, without a second thought about what I was doing.

Her tight walls held me in place and I gasped at the feeling as, moving forwards, I felt like it was dragging and yanking my aching cock, pulling my quivering body right along with it. Within seconds I was seated completely inside her welcoming warmth, and I was wedged between her podgy thighs.

Dead.

I'd died.

I'd died.

I was dead…

Gasping as unbelievable sensations flooded my body, I really thought that I had died and gone to Heaven. I panted in need and my eyes rolled back in their sockets.

The feeling was unlike anything that I'd ever felt before.

Tight.

Hot.

Tight.

Silky.

Tight.

Slick.

Tight.

Velvety.

Tight.

Amazing.

Tight.

Wet.

Tight.

Silken.

Tight.

Tight.

Tight.

Tight.

Tight!

Did I mention how tightly snug her pussy felt around my frantic cock?

"Ooooohhh… Edward… sooooo … Edward… sooooo… goooood… soooo …big. Fucking big. Big… fucking huge… huge… big… big… big…" Jacinta chanted, more to herself than to the two of us, as she scrambled about beneath my full body weight. "Soooo fucking huge… shit… stretching… oh God… Riley… Riley… fuck…fuck… fuck… so fucking huge… fuck… Edward… harder… fuck… me harder… harder… baby… ohhhh…God… stretching…" she mumbled as I felt the vice-like grip of her walls clamping down on me, in an almost sucking vacuum sensation.

No mouth could suck a cock like that and not hurt like fuck in the process…

Gasping and panting, I was unable to move at first, the feeling was so incredible that it took my breath away. I felt the air leave my lungs in a loud whooooosh and my vision blurred, as my eyes seemed unable to focus on anything.

Jacinta wrapped her legs tightly around my waist and gripped me between her soft thighs, yanking us closer together, thrusting and banging against me as she did so, pulling me in and out of her willing body.

"Fuck me!" she panted as she jerked against me, and she reached forward, grabbing my arms, "Fuck me… please… please… please… PLEASE!" she begged. "Edward, MOVE! Please! Fuck me now! Don't make me wait any longer, please! DO IT, EDWARD!" she barked out.

Snapped out of my euphoria by her desperation, I started to thrust, slowly at first.

The way that her walls sucked me in and made it hard for me to pull out was like a rolling, spasming suction, and the feeling was exhilarating. My brain got used to the sensations and finally allowed my movements to become faster and harder.

"So big…" Jacinta gasped as I felt my cock hit something hard inside of her. "Soooo fucking goooood…"

"Fuck!" I gasped, stilling my movements in shock, "Have I hurt you? What's that? What was that?" I said, panicking that I might have ruptured something deep inside of her because of the length of my cock.

"That's my fucking cervix, that's all!" she said, "It's fine, Edward, honestly! Your cock's huge, it's going to hit it, but it doesn't hurt! In fact, it feeling soooo fucking gooood…" she trailed off as she closed her eyes and threw her head back. As I continued to stare at her, her eyes snapped open again and she gasped, "Why have you stopped?" she wheezed as she bucked harder and faster against me. "Fuck me! Fuck meeeeee… fuck me now… nowwwwww… now… now… now… pleeeeeease..." she whined as she rocked her pelvis faster and I immediately began to move, and increased my speed.

Riley stood at her side and roughly jerked one of her legs up, putting it over my shoulder, "Faster, Edward, fuck her harder. She needs it hard and fast," he grunted as he moved back behind me. "Come on, move that deliciously, fuckable arse, baby," he groaned as he trailed a finger along my arse crack gently. "Our little Jacinta doesn't like it anyway but fucking hard and rough!" he said as he bit deeply into my shoulder.

Tugging Jacinta even closer, I got up on my knees and thrust harder and faster. I kept jerking my cock and snapping my hips upwards as I penetrated her again and again, as his touch kicked my arousal up to an entirely new level.

I watched, transfixed, as her tits moved, seemingly with a life of their own, as our bodies pounded against one another. Without thinking, I grabbed them in both hands and squeezed firmly as I pulled myself in and out of her, using them as leverage.

She groaned even more loudly as I leaned forwards, released them and sucked her right nipple hard between my lips and bit down on the tender flesh as I twisted the other one sharply with my thumb and index finger.

"Are you ready for me to join in now, boy?" he asked quietly. "I want you…" he whispered, sucking my ear lobe, poking his tongue in my ear, and I shuddered as he pressed his whole body against my back. "I want you… I want to touch you… please let me touch you…" he said, sinking his teeth into my shoulder once again.

"Yes!" I gasped out in desperation.

"Spread your legs for me, boy…" muttered as he kicked against my calves, "Open wider for me… I want to rim that perfect arsehole, baby… I want to fuck you with my tongue…"

Nodding frantically, I shuffled my knees as far apart as her body would allow. I kept my thrusts as regular and smooth as I could, as he pushed me forwards a little. "Do …whatever… you… like… to me…" I gasped out, as I continued to pump in and out of her tight pussy.

Licking, biting and sucking his way down my spine, he knelt between my legs and pushed my arse cheeks firmly apart, causing my thrusts to lose their rhythm. "Fuck…" I panted, feeling the sweat trickle down the centre of my back, "Do it… Sir… Mr Samuel… Riley… whatever! Fuck… please… please… please…touch me. Touch me more. PLEASE DO IT!" I yelled out.

His tongue licked and laved my puckered hole, humming as he did so, and I shuddered, hissing and whimpering as I clenched my teeth, trying to control myself.

Pulling back, he trailed his fingers to where Jace and I were joined, making his hand slick and slippery, and slowly – and surprisingly gently – he pushed a wet finger into my backside up to the first knuckle.

Whimpering, I began to thrust in and out of the tight pussy faster and slightly more erratically as he matched my movements with his finger.

"More… more… more…" I panted out, and he chuckled before he removed it and added a second.

His fingers were much thicker than Douglas's, and the burning stretch made me tighten my muscles against his intrusion and I froze. Screwing my eyes up tightly, I was whining in both desperation and discomfort, "Ouch!" I hissed out, "That fucking hurts! You need to stop! That fucking hurts!"

His fingers were much thicker than Douglas's, and the burning stretch made me tighten my muscles against his intrusion and I froze, screwing my eyes up tightly, and whining in both desperation and discomfort, "Ouch!" I hissed out, "That fucking hurts! You need to stop! That fucking hurts!"

"Sssshhhh, it's okay, baby," he said, "Sssshhh, its okay. Ssssshhhhh," he soothed as he began to move his twisted fingers in and out slowly. "Relax…" he cooed as he scraped his teeth along my shoulder. "Relax and enjoy what I can do to you... and, boy," he grunted, "If you can't take two of my fingers…" he continued as he leaned forwards and sucked my shoulder blade, you won't be able to cope with my big… thick… cock," he murmured, making me shudder, "Breathe deeply and relax and just fucking enjoy it."

Suddenly I couldn't contain myself any longer as the burning, aching stretch passed into a hot, tingling ache. I began thrusting inside of Jacinta again, but at an insanely and punishingly, frenetic pace, and she threw her head back, "Fuck, Edward!" she gasped. "Faster, baby, faster," she panted. "I'm so close… soooo close…" she whined. "God… Edward… make me cum all over your fucking massive cock…"

As my hips began snapping more quickly at her behest, Riley's fingers started to thrust harder and faster, matching my rhythm.

The way that her walls grabbed and almost strangled my cock, sucking, pulling, and clenching, made me whimper and pant. And then when his fingers started to hit my prostate firmly and repeatedly, I'm ashamed to say that I lost it immediately, as juddering shivers of tingly electricity overtook my body. "Not gonna…shit…not …not…ohhhhhh… not… not… gonna last… fuck… last… last…" I mewled, trying to slow my erratic movements down, and failing miserably.

"You're so beautiful, Edward," Riley cooed appreciatively, as he sucked his way across my back. "And your arse is so tight and snug. Just so you know, baby boy, I can't wait until my cock is buried balls deep in your arsehole, as I fuck your brains out. And who knows, maybe I'll even let the lovely Jacinta join in. She could suck your cock and balls while I fuck your arse… or she could sit on your face…" he said, groaning as my muscles fluttered wildly around the intrusion.

"Aaaaaahhhhhh… fucking cummmmmming …" Jacinta squealed loudly as her muscles started clamping down repeatedly, rhythmically strangling and milking my cock as she came.

Throwing my head back, lights, moons, suns and stars exploded into the blackness before my eyes. I bellowed like an injured animal, as rope after rope of cum shot out of my tortured cock, flooding her pussy.

"Shit…" Riley said, "So tight…soooo tight…" he growled as my orgasm caused my arse muscles to clamp down on his fingers. "You are going to suck my cock dry when you cum with me inside you… you want that… don't you?" he panted out. I shook convulsively in front of him, thrusting desperately in and out of Jacinta, while clenching my arse muscles tightly around his fingers, to keep him inside of me. "You want me to fuck your arse, don't you, Edward?" he asked again.

I felt like I had found what I had been searching for, and I attempted to nod, as my body convulsed and burned.

The way that her body engulfed and consumed me was what I had needed all along, and the way that his fingers made me feel so full, completed me.

My first experience of oral sex was amazing, truly amazing, but this?

This was … was… was… this was astounding.

Bewildering.

Astonishing.

Breath-taking.

Staggering…

Riley pulled his fingers out of my arse and stepped back, grabbing my hips and yanking me away as he did so.

He wrapped his arms around me, rubbing his rock hard prick backwards and forwards over my arse cheeks as he stroked my softening, wet cock.

Dropping to his knees, I was shocked when he sucked my semi-limp, highly sensitive prick into his mouth firmly, licking our combined cum off my cock, humming as he did so. It was almost too much and I tried to shove him away, but he held me tightly and as he continued to make appreciative noises, he won me over once more as the delicious vibrations made my cock twitch again and my balls throbbed. Watching my burgeoning erection as it slid in and out of his mouth once more make me grab at him, and stiffen fully almost immediately.

Pushing me away a little, he licked his lips and grinned. "Fuck you two taste so fucking good together," he said as he stared at my cock. Looking up at me, he smiled again. "Thank God for teenagers and their insatiable fucking erections…" he growled as he leaned down and engulfed my cock once more.

Sucking me all the way into his mouth, he took me down the back of his throat again and swallowed.

Whimpering loudly, I groaned as he moved back, so just the barest tip of my cock rested on his tongue.

Repeating this many times, I grabbed his hair, knowing that if he continued, he would make me flood his throat once more.

Moving his head back quickly, he released me from his ministrations and wiped the back of his hand over his swollen mouth. "Look at her pussy, Edward," he said. "Look at what you've done to her pussy," he ordered, and as I turned, I gasped.

Still lying, legs akimbo, sprawled out on the padded mats, she was puffing away like a steam engine as a steady stream of creamy-white, opaque cum was trickling out of Jacinta's still spasming pussy.

Holy fuck!

"Watch and learn, boy – just you watch and learn," Riley said roughly, as he crawled over to where she lay, on his hands and knees. He grabbed her upper thighs tightly and jerked her closer towards his face, before he took a long, languid lick of our combined juices.

I squeaked like a fucking teenage girl as I watched him in stunned amazement. He turned to look at me, smiled and opened his mouth, showing our opaque juices that were coating his tongue thickly.

Closing his mouth, he swallowed loudly, and my legs almost went from beneath me at the sight of him repeating this action several more times. Jacinta threw her head back once more, moaning and whining shrilly as his long, rough tongue stroked her sensitive skin firmly.

Kneeling beside him, I grabbed her tightly around her left knee and dragged her leg outwards, allowing me easier viewing. I watched, stunned as he pushed his tongue deeply inside her, curling it repeatedly. As he pulled and sucked our joint cum out of her, I was amazed to see that he was still drinking it all down, as he did so.

My cum – mixed with Jacinta's – and Riley was hungrily eating it out of her.

Fuck.

Lifting his head up, he leaned towards me and licked across my open mouth, before he pressed us together.

I sucked his tongue firmly, tasting all three of us combined and almost lost my shit again.

Grinning, he went back to fucking Jacinta with his mouth and she squealed loudly as he pushed his long tongue up inside of her, and at the same time, his nose bumped and pressed against her clit, making her gasp, twitch and jerk against him as he dug his long fingers deeply into her soft flesh. Instinctively, I leaned in and pulled the hood all the way back, exposing the highly sensitive tissue to his tongue.

Growling, he increased his motions as he dug his fingers even more deeply into her upper thighs and she screeched out as she writhed below him.

I observed his every suck, lick, swirl, press and growl with avid interest, memorising his every movement for future reference. I watched, enthralled, as she writhed underneath him, grabbing and pulling his hair, almost ripping it out at the roots. She thrust against his probing tongue, rolling her body against his face and my fingers as she came, screeching the place down, for the third time.

Before she finished twitching, Riley got up on his knees, spread them widely and yanked Jacinta on top of him, forcing his rock hard cock up inside her.

Without taking a breath, he began thrusting frantically up inside of her, whilst they desperately and enthusiastically kissed as she wrapped her arms and legs tightly around his jerking body.

The noises of their fucking were so arousing, I immediately began palming my cock again, wanking rapidly next to them. Their sounds, sights and smells acted as a living porn film for me. She threw her head backwards and her eyes rolled in their sockets, as his fingers rapidly thrummed her clitoris. His digits moved so fast, they were little more than a blur.

As she screeched through her fourth orgasm with a hoarse sounding throat, Riley held her still and poured himself inside of her. He was grunting like some sort of beast as he did so. Biting her shoulder and digging his fingers into her abundant hips, he came for the second time, and at the same time as Jacinta.

Fuck…

They came together…

I'd heard that could happen, of course, but I had never believed it was really possible. That realisation was the final, overwhelming straw! Suddenly, without warning, my cum shot through the air, in a wide arc, as I yelled loudly! Turning towards me in shock, at my unexpected outcry, they looked at me just in time, to get their faces and necks splattered with my creamy jizz!

I wasn't even aware that I'd been wanking!

My legs buckled, giving way beneath me, as I slid, unceremoniously, onto the grubby, slippery, wet floor. I fell in a crumpled heap, with my cock twitching and my chest rising and falling, like I was having an asthma attack.

As I battled to keep my exhausted eyes open, I saw Riley and Jacinta sprawled out on the mats, panting rapidly, and sweating profusely. I tried to stay alert, but I lost the fight almost immediately, as my eyes finally closed and resolutely refused to reopen.

Inky blackness took me and minutes – seconds – hours – or maybe even days, later – I have no fucking idea how long I slept – it really did feel like days – I felt like my eyes were being yanked open against my wishes.

"Edward?" I heard from somewhere in the distance, but I ignored it and curled up more tightly on the hard, uncomfortable surface.

The dreams I'd just had, were so fucking amazing, and soooo life-like, I didn't want to be woken up.

I actually believed that I was fucking an amazing girl, at the same time that my arse was being fingered, by a fuck-hot man!

It had been the best fucking experience of my existence, and I most certainly WASN'T going to willingly wake up without a chance to relive it! So, I shoved my cock in the hot, tight, dream pussy, and started moving rapidly once again.

"Edward!" the voice said again, laughing this time, "Stop humping that poor, innocent fucking flotation device! Any more wanking, and your knob is going to turn black and drop off! And that, would be a HUGE disappointment! I'm rather looking forward to you shoving it in my arse, in the near future, boy. So, you better FUCKING-WELL-WAKE-UP! N O W!"

The insistent and rapidly louder, yelling, couldn't be ignored. So, with a Herculean effort, I pried my eyes open and looked to the side of me, unable to lift my head up.

Riley and Jacinta were both dressed and the room was back to its usually dishevelled state, smelling of sweaty feet and chlorine. The delicious scent of sex, was sadly overwhelmed by the pugnacious odour of bleach. Even the tell tale sign of scattered, frantically shed clothing, was gone.

Fuck…

Stumbling to my knees, Riley patted me on my left arse cheek and grinned, "Come on, Edward, up you go. Time to get you into bed, baby boy" he said, chuckling loudly.

Oh my fuck.

They want to get me into bed?

I almost broke my balls in my desperate attempt to stand upright, on the slightly dirty, wet, and dangerously slippery floor.

Instant much harder hard-on…

"Fucking hell, Edward!" Jacinta laughed, "Does that fucker EVER go to sleep?"

"Oh, I'm so very glad that it doesn't …" Riley murmured gently, as he trailed his finger along my immediately twitching and aching erection. "We're going to have so much fucking fun, fucking you! Hard! Fast! Repeatedly! And as often as we can, aren't we, Jacinta?" he said. "Do you know what, Princess?" he murmured, as he trailed his tongue along my bottom lip.

"No?" I questioned, "What?"

"You are one fucking hot and amazing fuck! I can't wait until I'm buried balls deep, inside your arse! Tomorrow night, you're mine, baby boy!" he said gruffly. Then he sucked my lip between his teeth and bit down firmly.

I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer to me and started to press and lightly thrust my cock against his belly. Then he laughed and pushed me away, firmly.

What the fuck?

"I want you to fuck me!" I gasped out, stunned by his seeming rejection. "I can't wait!"

"Not tonight, Cinderella!" he sniggered. "No more! Tonight you've been twiddled by the balls more than enough, you greedy little fucker!" he continued as Jacinta walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, laughing. "Now go back to your room and sleep!" he ordered, and as I huffed and grumbled, he laughed louder. "Now be a good little boy and stop fucking moaning, because, pretty baby," he teased, as he stroked my cock lightly with the very tip of his finger. "Tomorrow…" he said, grinning at me. "Well, tomorrow is another day and we live to fuck again, baby boy," he chuckled. "And right now, you're going to rub yourself raw, if you don't fucking stop humping yourself!" he roared, as he held me close to him.

Huffing again, I walked away and looked around for my shed clothing.

Seeing them in a damp, dirty heap, I sighed.

Fuck…

Bending over, I hauled my ruined, crumpled shorts up my weakened legs, shaking.

"Fuck… Edward," Riley said, grabbing my arse in both of his hands, "I have to say, I thought that the lovely Jace and the equally lovely Douglas had really fuckable arses, but yours … yours is the loveliest yet… and I can't wait to fuck it…!" As he spoke, he stroked firmly over my arse cheeks, before dipping a finger between them. He pressed against my rose bud with firm, pulsing movements, making me shudder and whimper as he did so. "No disrespect, Jacinta," he said, as he turned to kiss her on the cheek.

"None taken, sweetie!" she giggled, "I have to agree! I might have to pull on a strap-on and fuck him myself!"

I had no idea what the hell she meant by that back then, but by God, I learned soon enough!

"If you want to get any sleep tonight, Riley," I pleaded, "you can't be touching me or saying fucking stuff like that!" Then I turned around, yawning loudly while palming an enormous, four man tent, that had suddenly shot up in my shorts, making them both laugh in the process.

We all staggered out of the building, wrapped around one another, holding each other upright. We were laughing as we tottered, on exhausted and wobbly legs, back up towards the school and to our respective rooms.

Before we parted, Riley held my hand and yanked me to a halt and whispered to me. "I want you to go into town tomorrow, Edward," Riley said firmly.

"Into town?" I said, scowling, "I've got lessons tomorrow, Riley. Then I'm coming to see you. What do I need to go into Windsor for?"

"Because, little man, tonight you went from being a boy to becoming a fucking man" Riley said, grinning as he stroked along my jaw.

"And part of that rite of passage, is to have the balls to go into a chemist and buy some condoms and lube. Make it anal lube, okay?" he said, putting his hands on his hips and scowling at me. "I can't use ordinary lube to fuck your arse repeatedly, Edward," he continued. "I want you to enjoy it, as much as I know that I will…" he finished, as he leaned in and kissed me gently on the lips.

As I looked down, I saw that his tracksuit bottoms jutted out at an odd angle, thanks to the leaking erection that he was sporting once more. Smiling, I looked up and nodded, because my shorts also stood out as if a thick, long tent pole was hidden inside of them.

"Yes," I shrugged, "Okay. If that's what you want me to do, Riley, then that's what I'll do."

They both explained to me, quickly and succinctly, that this was a onetime only, condom free fuck. They said that from now on, I would have to wear a rain cap at all times, with them, and anyone else I fucked, for my own safety.

They both impressed on me fully, the importance of NEVER allowing a cock anywhere near my arse without a condom. I also needed to make sure that I bought good quality, water based lube, so that it didn't damage the delicate sheath of rubber or silicone.

I didn't know any of this shit before and would always be grateful to them for their very impressive, eye-opening and jaw-dropping teaching methods!

Yawning loudly, I staggered upstairs to my room, and on reaching the top, I turned around just in time to see them walking away, wrapped around one another, chatting excitedly.

I took a shower, where I wanked frantically, of course, under the cascading water that was much too hot! I relived every feeling and memory of my unbelievable, fan-fucking-tastic and highly unexpected night! Afterwards, I drank two bottles of ice cold water, before I finally collapsed onto my bed and passed out immediately. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

…**ooOoo…**

**Ummm… okay… so?**

**Come on over to TWCS to find ISS from now on, and who knows, Twilighted must just accept me too… doubtful but hope springs and all that crap.**

**ISS will be back on fanfic, under Kitties1, but will be called purely ISS and I have decided to split and rework every chapter – with the aid of the amazing Rima2000l. I rewrite the, she beta's them, then Katy Dazzledbythe Cullens pre-reads them, and I post them, Bob's your uncle and Fanny's your aunt and they are done!**

**We hope to post at least one chapter per week once are back in our stride once more so watch out for us and be kind, re-read and review because it is very different second time around, much more rounded and beefed out as it were. The chapters are better, I think, now, and I plan on them being between 12k – 17k words per chappy this time around and speaking for myself, I actually like it better now.**

…**..ooOoo…..**

**Now, I'm hiding under the stagnant water in that sodding duck pond once again, using a straw up each nostril to allow me to breathe whilst I wait to receive your yelling reviews or my account being hauled off by fanfic!**

**Hey ho!**

**I might be more than a wee bit terrified right now, so please be kind, it's been a shitty few weeks for me and mine. **

**Be nice.**

**EEEEEK!**

**I know that it might look as if this story is just porn without plot so far, but it honestly isn't, I just really enjoy writing lemons (shocking I know) and there really is method in my madness.**

**This is showing how Edward only 'feels' through sex and orgasms. He is completely emotionally retarded due to his childhood and how he only came alive when he saw, and fell in love with, Bella. **

**He is totally and utterly irresistible to all around him – young, old, male and female alike – but much as he enjoys their attentions and loves sex – and quickly becomes a master at it in every guise – there is truly no emotion involved and I really hope that this point comes across.**

**Please bear with me; this will all come right in the end – I promise you.**

**A review would be nice.**

**Please make it a pleasant one!**

**The next one continues in the same vein, but it is, without doubt, the rudest thing that I've EVER written so for goodness sake, brace yourselves!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Bonjour from my pretty London.**

**Well, well, well… the last chapter got you all chattering didn't it?**

**Glad the few of you that read and reviewed it liked it, I wish more would give it a go, he's a very naughty boy… but he's also lovely and just damaged and seeking love and my heart aches for him – I just don't understand why more people don't like it. He has no sexual filter or constraints, and boy do I envy him for having the balls – forgive the pun – to have a go at anything he feels like trying or fancies.**

**Good luck to him!**

**Okay, so onwards and upwards… **

**Now, to give you all fair warning so that you don't get the hump and start moaning that you didn't have the chance to turn around and bugger off.**

**This chapter is the most lemonicious that I've EVER written and if you are of a sensitive disposition, bugger off. I don't own Twilight, the follicaly luscious Stephanie Meyer does, and I thank her from the bottom of my heart for allowing me to do very bad things to her very good boy.**

**This chapter also contains ****consensual slash**** intercourse – please remember that the age of consent for both heterosexual and homosexual sex in the UK is sixteen, even if it isn't in the rest of the world. I am English, and this is an English story so please bear that in mind when you read.**

**I will be reposting ISS on here shortly. Every chapter has been split and extensively rewritten and will go by the name ISS – please have a wee look, I miss my harpies!**

**So, without any further ado, I, very nervously, give you:**

**INSATIABLE**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

"_**When moonlight crawls along the street  
Chasing away the summer heat  
Footsteps outside somewhere below  
The world revolves I let it go  
We build our church above this street  
We practice love between these sheets  
The candy sweetness scent of you  
It bathes my skin I'm stained by you  
And all I have to do is hold you  
There's a racing in my heart  
I am barely touching you**_

Turn the lights down low  
Take it off  
Let me show  
My love for you  
Insatiable  
Turn me on  
Never stop  
want to taste every drop  
My love for you  
Insatiable

The moonlight plays upon your skin  
A kiss that lingers takes me in  
I fall asleep inside of you  
There are no words  
There's only truth  
Breathe in Breathe out  
There is no sound  
We move together up and down  
We levitate our bodies soar  
Our feet don't even touch the floor  
And nobody knows you like I do  
The world doesn't understand  
But I grow stronger in your hands

Turn the lights down low  
Take it off  
Let me show  
My love for you  
Insatiable  
Turn me on  
Never stop  
want to taste every drop  
My love for you  
Insatiable

Turn the lights down low  
Take it off  
Let me show  
My love for you  
Insatiable  
Turn me on  
Never stop  
want to taste every drop  
My love for you  
Insatiable

We never sleep we're always holdin' hands  
Kissin' for hours talkin' makin' plans  
I feel like a better man  
Just being in the same room  
We never sleep there's just so much to do  
Too much to say  
Can't close my eyes when I'm with you  
Insatiable the way I'm loving you

Turn the lights down low  
Take it off  
Let me show  
My love for you  
Insatiable  
Turn me on  
Never stop  
want to taste every drop  
My love for you  
Insatiable

Turn the lights down low  
Take it off  
Let me show  
My love for you  
Insatiable  
Turn me on  
Never stop  
want to taste every drop  
My love for you  
Insatiable…"

…**ooOoo….**

**Previously**

"**Yes," I shrugged, "okay. If that's what you want me to do, Riley, then that's what I'll do."**

**They both explained to me, quickly and succinctly, that this was a onetime only, condom free fuck. They said that from now on, I would have to wear a rain cap at all times, with them, and anyone else I fucked, for my own safety.**

**They both impressed on me fully the importance of NEVER allowing a cock anywhere near my arse without a condom. I also needed to make sure that I bought good quality water based lube, so that it didn't damage the delicate sheath of rubber or silicone.**

**I didn't know any of this shit before and would always be grateful to them for their very impressive, eye-opening and jaw-dropping teaching methods! **

**Yawning loudly, I staggered upstairs to my room, and on reaching the top, I turned around just in time to see them walking away, wrapped around one another, chatting excitedly.**

**I took a shower, where I wanked frantically, of course, under the cascading water that was much too hot! I relived every feeling and memory of my unbelievable, fan-fucking-tastic and highly unexpected night! Afterwards, I drank two bottles of ice cold water, before I finally collapsed onto my bed and passed out immediately. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.**

…**..ooOoo…**

The next day, unbelievably, I got up early.

Looking in the mirror, I groaned at the mess that my neck and shoulders were in. Riley had chewed me to pieces and Jacinta had raked at me with her claw like nails as she writhed through her orgasms, and I sighed wondering how the fuck I was supposed to hide that shit from my teachers and other students.

Dabbing a bit of toothpaste on them—I'd been told that toothpaste helped love bites disappear quickly—I winced as the strong mint stung like a bitch, and huffing, I quickly washed it off and limped across the room, aching from head to toe after the massively physical work out that my body had received the night before.

Throwing a pair of baggy low-slung camouflage shorts, I pulled out a crumpled, tight dark green t-shirt and my trainers and chucked them all onto my bed, before I jumped into the shower as I tried to relax my excited nerves.

Soaping myself all over, my cock throbbed a little bit from all the use the night before—not to mention the abuse meted out on it at the hand—and mouth—of Douglas the night before that—and, after a long, soothing shower—and, of course, another fast and frantic hand job—because fuck me, my dick would have to be hanging on by a mere thread to stop the fucker demanding my immediate, undivided, and hard sodding attention—I ate a massive cooked breakfast, suddenly ravenously hungry.

Deciding that, as I had no classes until 11.00 am, I'd cycle into town early, I went to the bike garage where we all kept our bikes safely locked up, and collected my new racing bike that I kept chained up in there.

It was my pride and joy.

A shiny black Scott that had cost me a fortune and when not in use, I paid one of the younger lads to keep it cleaned and polished and it was nuzzled inside a protective cover the entire time.

Ever since Jasper had convinced me that I had to put my foot down and insist that my trustees ensured that I had everything I needed in life, I pretty much could have anything that I wanted. Having never had new things before, what I now did have, I took great care of, and even my guitars were cossetted and protected like babies, kept on stands and dusted down lovingly every other day.

My old bike had been Jasper's cast off, like most of my original possessions, and although it was fine in itself, it was a bit rickety and wasn't what I wanted now. Mr Hobbs, one of the under gardeners, was thrilled when I gave him my old bike the day that my sparkly new toy was delivered. From then on, his wife ensured that I had a regular supply of fruit cake as a way of saying thank you.

Sitting on the seat was a bit tricky, as I belted towards Windsor, because I was so fucking excited about the thought of what the rest of the day was going to hold, and my desperate cock just refused to stay down. Despite being forcibly trapped inside two pairs of swimming trunks, it battled against its prison, seeking friction. And, after deciding against another wank because my cock was sensitive enough, it just seemed easier to keep both my mind and body otherwise occupied so that I didn't have to keep rushing into the lavatory to rub one out.

After cycling the few miles into town, I squared my shoulders, chained my frightfully expensive bike up on the railings near the shopping arcade. After hovering outside for a little while, I went to a pharmacy where, without any embarrassment, despite being served by a female assistant, I bought twenty packets of extra sensitive condoms and a large bottle of water-based lubricant.

She raised an eyebrow at me, but grinned, licked her lips and pressed her ample, partially encased breasts together and thrust them towards me. Put it this way, however much of a randy little fucker I was, she wasn't my type and no matter how far forward she shoved her tits, my cock wasn't going to be wedged between them any time soon, not when I could have it buried inside of Jacinta again, or hopefully, plunged inside of Riley's backside.

She counted out the packets of condoms, and smiled at me again. "Twenty packets of extra fine, sensitive silicone Durex condoms, _Sir?" _she said, "Is that correct?"

Nodding, I looked down.

And I know that it may seem that I had bought an excessive amount, but hope springs eternal, and I planned on both fucking – and getting fucked – many, many times in the very near future, so they wouldn't go to waste.

Hopefully.

"Yes, that's correct," I said, sounding terribly clipped, posh and precise, as I did so, "Could you tell me which lubricant I should buy for both kinds of penetration?" I continued, blushing and looking down, and sounding far more confident than I felt.

"Both types of penetration?" she asked, sounding confused, "What do you mean, dear?" she said, scowling. "Both types? What does that mean? There's only one type of penetration, love, you're getting confused. Surely?" she asked.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Um… vaginal and anal penetration," I continued, raising my chin and setting my lips in a hard, defiant line.

The assistant looked slightly confused and stunned as she dropped the bottle of vitamin C tablets that she'd been holding. Her mouth opened with a loud pop as she stared at me in shock.

"Anal? As well as vag…" she began as she stared at me and flushed deeply, before she stumbled into the back of the shop looking bewildered.

Returning, still flustered, moments later, she stared at me a little longer than normal, before she handed me a large bottle, and assured me that the pharmacist had told her that this was the best type to be used with condoms for either kind of penetration and when I blushed slightly at the delicious thoughts of what tonight had in store for me, I had heard a slight gasp.

Looking up, confused, I blinked at her through my eyelashes, and she had groaned a little bit before taking a backward step. Giving her my most dazzling smile, I licked my lips, just to see what it would do to her, and handed her my card as I paid for everything. She took my debit card with shaking fingers and kept making a mistake when trying to process it.

So I could affect women in the same way as did with men, could I? Smiling to myself, I licked my bottom lip and she blushed the colour of the touristy phone boxes that dotted Windsor. Thrilled at the whimper, I nodded my head politely and looked her straight in the eyes. She dropped my card and her hand flew to her chest as she stared at me, and her mouth dropped open. I fucking loved the effect that I had on her and it was good to know that women other than Jacinta found me attractive, because after feeling how hot and snug it was to be buried inside of her pussy, I knew that I wanted to fucking well do that many more times in the days and weeks to come.

Chuckling to myself, I left the shop, slung the paper bag into my rucksack, and grabbed my bike, before I cycled, at break-neck speed, back to my room.

When I'd thrown the excessive amounts of johnny's, and the almost industrial sized bottle of lube, onto my bed, desperate to open a packet and feel a condom for the first time, I'd found the middle aged assistant's number hastily scribbled onto a scruffy, lined piece of paper at the bottom of the pharmacy bag.

Hmmm…

Chuckling to myself, I screwed the paper up into a ball and flicked it into the wastepaper basket because I wasn't interested in her at all. Why would I be when I had Jacinta and Riley willing to teach me everything and more that I would ever need to know?

I practiced smiling at both men and women of all ages, and all persuasions, a LOT, from then on, and do you know what? I _always _got my own way.

Always.

And I still do… in everything in fact.

The knowledge that I could affect grown women, as well as grown men, in pretty much the same way was an enlightening moment for me, and I'd spent the rest of the day fighting my way through my multiple orgasm induced fog and attempted to work, but at the same time the nerves and anticipation of what would be happening to me that evening had cranked my adrenaline up to almost hysterical proportions. I suddenly realised that due to the control my cock had over my mind, I had forgotten that I'd already made arrangements for this weekend.

Fuck.

Texting Jasper had been horribly nerve wracking, trying to explain as plausibly as possible that I wouldn't be coming to his gig that evening due to a last minute, and terribly vital, rugby training session that I couldn't get out of – as team captain – had made me feel as guilty as fuck and my chest had clenched in the knowledge that I was letting my best and kindest friend in the entire world, down.

He'd really started to take his music much more seriously and his academic work had suffered because of it. His parents were surprisingly laissez-faire about this, as long as he was diligent about his music they didn't seem too bothered about whether he worked at school or not.

His type of slightly off-the-wall funky rock had begun to attract quite a crowd, and three of his classmates had teamed up with him, Benny D, Benjamin and Gerald, as well as a much older black guy called Cousin Jim whom they knew from their club gigs, and for some bizarre reason they'd called themselves 99 Chimpanzees.

The name was chosen one night when Jazz, Rose, Emmett and I had lain in a spliff induced euphoria in the large tree house in his back garden. Well, tree house is a bit of a misnomer really. He had electricity and heating, as well as a toilet and sink, and it was much more like a bachelor flat than a kid's playhouse. He practised with his instruments in there and Garrett had spent many laborious hours sound proofing it so that the neighbours weren't disturbed and pissed off either.

This was the place that he'd started to bring girls back to, and his parents turned a blind eye to that, our drinking, and very obvious indulgences into other, less savoury, illegal stimulants.

We'd all giggled hysterically at our feeble attempts to come up with a suitable name for his new band whilst we ate takeaway pizza and drank warm beer.

Rose had suggested 'Chimpanzees' because she said that they all behaved like a bunch of silly apes when they got on stage, showing off and jumping about, and I'd said, "Yes, and you make about as much mess as fucking ninety nine of the fuckers when the five of you get together!"

So, 99 Chimpanzees were born and they were already getting quite a catalogue of music together.

This was the evening that they were going to perform at the City of London school concert for the first time and he'd wanted his three best friends to attend.

Surprisingly, even Rosalie had wanted me to attend to show a united front, and we all went shopping the week before for new clothes in Oxford Street for the occasion. She'd even rung me several times to try and get me to change my mind after I'd sent the text.

I felt like a total and utter knob for letting my kindest and best friend down at the last moment like this—and on the most important day of his musical life too – but the thought of me, Riley and a pot of lube—in his rooms—alone—was just too much of an allure. So, I put my own sexual urges to the fore, turning my back on Jasper and his needs and in the process, the icy selfishness of my father wound its way around my heart and won over once more.

He'd gone and had two tattoos done recently as a dedication to his parents and their selflessness, one on each bicep. He was going to show these to them for the first time before the gig by wearing a black leather waistcoat, black jeans and a black vest, and my heart ached for someone to love me the same way.

As soon as he got my text, he responded to me.

He was, of course, disappointed, but Jazz, being Jazz, wished me the very best of luck with the training, and said he would see me the next day instead and that I wasn't to worry because they had already received another booking so I could go to see them perform there instead.

His kindness made my heart tighten and I truly felt like the prick that I was rapidly becoming. But the desires of my cock won over and I swallowed down the feelings of guilt much quicker than perhaps I should have.

After classes had finished for the day, I shrugged off the advances of a couple of the other boys, and Douglas, and belted back to my rooms as fast as my shaking, excited legs would carry me and started to strip before I'd even entered the room.

A note had been slipped under my door.

It was from Riley…

And as I opened the envelope, my fingers quivered and every part of my body tightened and throbbed in anticipation as I unfolded the stiff, white paper.

….…..

_Edward_

_Please come to my rooms at 7:00 p.m., and tell no one where you are going._

_Shower, thoroughly, before you come here and eat a light supper – no carbohydrates please – things can get a bit… shall we say 'messy' if you eat too many of those beforehand._

_Drink plenty of water, clean your teeth and fingernails and bring the condoms and lube that, I hope, you bought, with you._

_Riley._

….…..

I'd been relieved that there was no flowery, romantic, sloppy shit in the note. It was coolly dispassionate and that's how I wanted it.

This was about fucking.

Not love.

Pure and simple.

It was about getting to cum as explosively and regularly as possible.

Sitting down at my desk, I rattled through my huge pile of homework at an alarming rate, even for me, before dashing downstairs where I grabbed a bowl of vegetable soup, a banana and an apple. Jumping into a hot shower, I used a brush that I'd found under the bathroom sink to scrub my skin, from head to toe. I felt like I was skinning myself alive as I rubbed it too hard until I almost fucking glowed. I even scrubbed my finger and toe nails, as well as washing my hair twice, and I felt so clean that I almost squeaked when touched. Soaping up my fingers, I even shoved one up my arse to make sure that I was clean inside and out in my careful preparations for Riley.

Frantically rummaging through my wardrobes, I couldn't decide what to wear and was almost like a girl in my desperation to make everything right.

This was not a formal occasion so I didn't need to be smart, but I also wanted to look nice for him. Eventually I decided on relaxed casual, and yanked on a pair of low slung, cut-off jean-style shorts and didn't bother with underpants; there didn't seem to be much point really as I hoped to be out of them as quickly as possible. I then dragged on a skin-tight navy blue t-shirt that showed off my long, lean, sculptured torso – and of course all of the love bites and scrape marks – and finally slipped my feet into a pair of blue flip flops. Dragging my fingers through my wild hair, I smiled to myself in the mirror.

Yep.

"Looking good, Cullen!" I said to myself, before grabbing the bottle of lube and four packets of condoms, and, cunningly, a folder of school work, along with a pencil case, to make it seem as if I was off to study with one of the Master's. The condoms and lube fitted easily into the large plastic case, just in case anyone stopped me en route.

In truth, I knew that I was about to study an entirely new subject and to learn a VERY important lesson, but not one that the other members of the teaching staff needed to be aware of!

Grinning and chuckling to myself, I ran my hands through my hair once more, sprayed a bit of deodorant under my arms and rubbed a bit of aftershave onto the edge of my t-shirt, as I tried to ignore the throbbing creature that was screaming for freedom inside my shorts, and headed off towards the teachers accommodation block with my possessions tucked underneath my arms.

Walking through the grounds and up the gravelled paths, my breathing started to hitch and came in light, rasping pants as a combination of anticipation and fear percolated together in a soupy stew of acid. And the closer I got, the higher my nerves cranked up and a ball of nausea began to form in my abdomen, making my feet drag slower and slower.

Just as I reached his door, my self-doubt had moved up to a whole new level, and for a few moments, I seriously thought about turning and running away before anything happened between us.

Breathing in deeply, I slowly shook my head, forcing the doubts to dissipate because the facts were that Riley wasn't coercing me into doing anything that I hadn't wanted to do with him for a long time, so, smiling to myself, I raised my hand to rattle the letter box.

Before my hand even reached the door, Riley appeared, as if by magic, and without my even having to knock. Grinning at me broadly, and with a surreptitious look to the left and right several times, he quickly took my hand and dragged me across the threshold without saying a word.

He looked fucking amazing, dressed in low rise camouflage shorts that showed a slither of white boxer shorts, a white vest top and he had bare feet.

Silently, he hauled me closer using my upper arms as leverage, kicked the door closed with a loud slam, pressed me against the closed door, and kissed me painfully hard. Gasping as he forced his tongue inside my mouth – sucking, biting, chewing at me frantically and relentlessly. I didn't object and threw myself into the kiss with equally enthusiastic gusto.

He smelt lovely – fresh, clean and almost citrusy, with a musky, male overtone, stronger than Douglas', as he grappled with me, grabbing the cheeks of my arse and yanking our pelvis's together, pinning one of my legs between his, pressing his hip against my throbbing crotch as he did so.

The folder and pencil case hit the floor with a loud thud, which both of us ignored, and the kissing became more and more frenzied as we opened our mouths to one another. Sucking and tasting each other, hungrily and desperately, we both moaned and groaned as our hands groped, probed and grappled firmly, yanking and dragging at clothing.

This wasn't going to be tender and gentle love making.

No.

This was going to be animalistic rutting.

Thank fuck.

As he fucked my mouth with his tongue, he shoved his hands down and grabbed my erection over the thick fabric, "God I'm fucking glad that you're hard already, boy…" he murmured, pulling our faces apart as he did so, "Fuck… you're so big…" he groaned before he latched our mouths together once more.

As I wrapped my arms around him, he quickly thrust his hands down inside my shorts and began to stroke and squeeze my leaking cock and swollen balls as he did so. "No underwear, Cullen?" he asked, sounding surprised, but thrilled, "Were you a boy scout? You always seem to be so fucking well prepared, baby…" he muttered. "You're even more fucking massive than I remembered…" he groaned as he wanked me enthusiastically, "Can't wait until I can fuck you…" he muttered as he sucked my neck once more.

"Do it…" I muttered as I threaded my fingers through his soft curls, and held his face firmly against me. "Fuck me… that's why I'm here… I want you…" I said as I bit along his jaw, "What the fuck are you waiting for? Do it now!" I ordered.

"Demanding little Princess tonight, aren't we?" he hissed out as he chewed along my jaw bone and trailed his fingers through my slit, making me shudder.

Pulling his hands out, he brought his slick fingers to his lips and tasted me on them. "Better every fucking time, boy," he grumbled as he clamped his mouth onto mine once more, swirling our tongue around one another's. "You taste better every fucking time… God… I fucking love this…"

As my hands dug into his hair more firmly, tugging from the roots, he pulled back and stared at me.

"You're a beautiful boy, Cullen…" he muttered, licking his lips, "My beautiful boy… I'm so fucking glad that you didn't change your mind…"

"Why would I have changed my mind?" I asked, scowling, feeling confused, "I want you, Riley. I want you… I've wanted you for a long time too… I want you to be the one to fuck me first…" I said, blushing and looking down.

"Don't fucking say shit like that, boy!" he gasped out as he dug his fingers into my biceps, "I'm gonna blow my load in my shorts like a fucking thirteen year old at this rate!"

Dropping to his knees, Riley wrenched my shorts down with one hard tug—without undoing them – obviously in too much of a hurry to bother with such trivialities—and my cock roared its way to freedom, reaching forward, seeking the relief that would only be available in Riley's talented mouth once again.

Yanking my t-shirt off, I threw it across the room, and grabbed handfuls of Riley's hair, dragging his face forwards as his tongue licked and lapped at my pre-cum drizzling slit urgently. "You taste so FUCKING good, Cullen!" he gasped out before he opened his mouth and sucked my swollen, slick head inside and pulled his cheeks in firmly.

I almost came on the spot as he swirled and twirled his tongue repeatedly around my frenulum before he gobbled me all the way down his throat and started to fuck my cock with his mouth. The hot wet column tightened repeatedly around my erection and the feeling was unbelievable—every bit as good as being buried inside of Jacinta's pussy the night before.

Staring down at him, I whimpered and grabbed at his hair, scalp and ears—whatever I could get a grip of—to try and climb inside of him, and there was nothing loving or romantic about this.

Watching him gobbling hungrily and desperately at my cock as I thrust in time with his movements, pushing my erection further and harder down the back of his throat, was so fucking erotic that I whimpered and panted urgently as I yanked and pulled his damp curls.

The frenetic, almost brutal way that he licked and sucked and swallowed me greedily and relentlessly, as he stroked my balls and pressed against my arse hole, meant that I was unable to control myself, and, within minutes, I lost my rhythm as I flooded his mouth and throat with my cum.

Even after I'd given him everything I had, he kept sliding his mouth up and down my still hard cock and my creamy coloured jizz smeared all over my shaft and trickled down his chin.

Gasping, I staggered backwards, shocked and stunned at the speed with which he could make me cum. Pulling away from his fantastic mouth, I crashed against the wall of shelves, knocking several things over – tripping over my shorts that were still around my ankles – some of which smashed loudly onto the wooden floor and gasped at the pain that ricocheted through my body at the way my back had hit a sharp corner.

"Jesus…" I whimpered out, staring at him in total disbelief.

Neither of us even bothered to look at what damage I'd done, I was too busy watching him with wide eyes as he stood up and began to stalk towards me, unbuttoning his trousers as he did so.

"Get on your knees, Cullen," he ordered quietly, but firmly, as he trailed his fingers over his lips and chin, gathered up my escaped cum and sucked his fingers into his mouth. "You taste so fucking sweet, boy. So fucking sweet… now… get on your knees, pretty boy, and let me fuck your mouth. Tonight you're MINE and I'm not sharing you with Jacinta, Douglas, or anyone," he growled. "Make me cum now so that when I'm buried inside your arsehole, I last a long, long time, baby," he ordered.

My cock instantly rose and he watched, fascinated, licking his lips as he did so.

"Fucking hell, boy… you have fucking stamina…" he said, appreciatively as his eyes fixed on my bobbing cock.

Sliding down the wall, ignoring my aching back, I dropped to my knees and crawled towards him.

Grinning, he stepped out of his shorts and kicked them across the room. He, sadly, wasn't sans underwear, but he still looked fucking hot, so I wasn't too disappointed. "God you look good crawling towards me…" he muttered as he licked his lips once more. "I hope you're ready for me, Edward," he smirked, "I've had a hard on since we parted last night at the thought of you and your tight arse. And even after fucking Jace all night long…" he said, locking eyes with me, "It wasn't enough. It wasn't enough…" As I licked my lips excitedly, his eyes darkened further as he continued, "I'm going to drown you with my cum if you aren't careful, boy," he groaned.

His cock looked massive inside his tight, white boxers and as I reached him, I sat back on my knees just looking at him for a moment, before leaning forwards and pressing my face against his appendage, I nuzzled his trapped cock with my nose and inhaled deeply. "Fuck… Riley…" I groaned, "You smell fucking hot…" I whispered before I trailed my tongue along his erection through the material, and without giving any indication of what I was about to do, I quickly sucked his balls, one at a time.

Shuddering under my ministrations, he whimpered as I suckled his wet head, still concealed by the thick cotton and he was so aroused that I could taste his pre-cum through the fabric.

"Mmmm…" I moaned as I sucked harder and scooted closer, wrapping my arms tightly around the backs of his thighs as I did so, "So fucking good…" I said, because it was the truth. His huge, throbbing cock felt amazing between my tongue and lips and he tasted the best that I'd had to date.

Groaning loudly, he grabbed my hair with one hand before he started to yank his pants down with the other one, "Suck me, Edward, let me watch my cock slide in and out of your pretty pink mouth again, baby," he whispered. "I couldn't sleep last night after watching you suck me off… I need to film us together. Poor Jacinta can't walk today… I fucked her so many times. I need to take pictures of you kneeling like this… with my cock buried in your throat…" he grumbled. "Tell me that I can… tell me that I can… I need to be able to watch myself … shit… I need to … be able to watch myself… fuck you whenever… I want to… baby…" he muttered.

Baby?

Huh.

Baby again?

He had called me that the night before too, and I wasn't sure that I liked it to be honest, it felt too personal – too intimate somehow – but because I was about to suck his cock, I guessed intimacy didn't really matter because within the next few seconds he would be fucking my mouth and you couldn't get much more intimate than that, so I went with it anyway.

But there was no way he was taking pictures of me blowing him.

No fucking way.

There was also no way in hell that he was fucking filming me, either.

No way.

I had a career in the law ahead of me and I didn't want any films or photographs turning up one day as a tool against me. Even then, I was a cunning untrusting fucker. Staring at his large balls, still covered by his pants, I smiled, before I returned to laving them gently, making them wet with my saliva. "I'm going to suck your cock now, Riley," I whispered as I looked up into his darkened eyes from beneath my eyelashes. Hooking my thumbs under the elastic waistband of his boxer shorts, he whimpered and I slowly, very slowly, began to lower them. Keeping my eyes fixed on the fabric that I was discarding, I helped Riley to step out of them, and threw them across the room, treating them like the inconvenience that they were.

Turning my attention back to his cock, I smiled.

It seemed much larger than it had done the night before, bigger than Douglas – thank God – and the head was quite a lot darker in the cold light of day and looked fucking beautiful. The skin on his upper thighs was much paler than I had expected, and I had always thought that he was olive skinned, the fact was, he was as fair as I was but because he spent most of his life out of doors, he was always tanned and healthy looking compared to most of the other pale, pasty looking teachers.

Stroking my finger around the aubergine head that was slick with his own juices, I trailed it through his fluid filled slit before I brought it to my lips and sucked his arousal down. "Your skin feels really soft…" I said lamely. But it was true and Riley seemed to like it because a violent shudder rippled through his taut musculature as I slowly stroked my pointed tongue into his full slit several more times before I sat back and licked my lips exaggeratedly, just the way that I did to drive Douglas nuts.

"Fuck…" he growled, "You are a FUCKING prick tease, Cullen. Fucking suck my cock before I hold your head still and fuck your mouth. DO IT!" he ordered. Smiling again, I looked up to him and cocked my head on the side, before I opened my mouth and slithered my flattened tongue all the way up his shaft and back down again. "Jesus…" he groaned, "Fuck…" as I dipped the pointed tip of my tongue into the eye of his cock, jabbing lightly and repeatedly.

Sucking and kissing my way up and down his thick, quivering shaft, I languidly licked and lapped around the frenulum, before I swallowed the head of his cock into my mouth slowly and suckled firmly, swirling my tongue repeatedly around and around, gathering up his leaking juices before I pulled back, licked my and swallowed loudly.

"Fuck, you taste really good, Riley..." I said before I dove back in and sucked half his erection into my mouth greedily and hummed appreciatively around him.

Riley whimpered and hissed as I sucked harder, letting more of cock slide into my mouth. He felt huge on my tongue and the way that he was holding me meant that I couldn't move either backwards or forwards.

"Inhale deeply, Edward," he grunted, holding my hair in tight handfuls, as I looked up at him and frowned.

"Um… trkinglqwiyd…" I choked as I tried to pull myself away from him and explain that I couldn't inhale whilst that massive thing was pressing against my soft palate.

"Inhale in through your nose, Edward. Do it!" he barked, startling me and making me begin to cough as his cock his the back of my throat, making me retch.

Shit.

This wasn't like the usual blow job that I was required to give and I wasn't entirely sure that I liked the way this encounter was going so I put my hands on his rock hard upper thighs and tried to yank myself away.

"Oh no you fucking don't, boy!" he growled, "You agreed to this evening and you aren't backing out now. You want me to fuck your arse? Well… shit… well I need to cum down your… bugger… I need to cum down your fucking throat first or two pumps inside your tight fucking backside and it will all be over… I want to watch as I fuck your mouth… I need this… do it. Do it. I want this… I want you to deep throat me. Do it. Do as I tell you! Do it!" he ordered, with a shaking voice.

As his cock banged against the back of my throat, I gagged and retched a little bit and he shuddered from head to toe as my mouth closed tightly against his intrusion.

"Take in a deep breath and… oh God… and then breathe slowly out… of your nose," he said with great difficulty. "If you… if you really don't want… want this. Go now…" he said, letting go of me suddenly.

Shit.

Pulling back, I stared up at him and he looked torn. Anger and concern played across his handsome features as we stared at one another, both panting with rapidly rising and falling chest.

I wanted to learn didn't I? And surely this was learning? So, shrugging I wrapped my hands around the back of his thighs, shuffled closer than ever, and opened up for him once more. And as I inhaled deeply, I allowed myself to relax and breathe out, and as I did so, he slowly pushed his erection right down the back of my throat without waiting for me to get used to his thick cock as it made me retch once more.

As I started to gag and thrash my arms around as my throat burned and my reflex tried to force the intrusion out, he held my head firmly in place and I spluttered around his invading erection. I gasped as fear and panic took over.

Jacinta was right.

He was an aggressive fucker, but that thought, although quite scary, was also fucking exciting and shuddering, I dug my fingers into his tight quadriceps muscles and held onto his bucking body more firmly.

"You WILL learn to deep throat me, boy. You have to… you have to… you… you… just have to… baby," he whimpered. "I want you… I want you… I want you all the time… And I want this. I need to watch… fuck… to watch your throat… move as … shit… move as I fuck it… fuck… You WILL learn to do this, or you don't get my cock, or my mouth, ever again, Edward. I NEED this. Understand me?" he said firmly, as he yanked my head closer to his crotch, shoving his cock even further down my throat, painfully, as tears trickled down my face as I fought to breathe.

Shit.

"Do as I say," he said, pulling all the way out of my mouth as I choked and spluttered, trying to catch my breath. "I need this. I need you to swallow my cock… cock… cock… all the way down," he grunted, almost angrily as he made shallow thrusts into my mouth. "Take in… in a …a deep breath, breathe out through your nose and relax your throat. If you follow these… instructions, you won't… gag… gag… just listen to… to me." he said quietly, grabbing my chin and forcing my face upwards to look at him, staring at me, "I like to be deep throated, boy. I need it. And I should warn you that I like rough sex, Jace and I both do, so either get …used to it and learn to do what we both want and need, or fuck off … off… off, and get out, and settle for … submissive Douglas… instead," he said, coldly, but desperately, through gritted teeth.

Strangely enough, this level of coldness was one that I understood, and, nodding, I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply and took hold of his cock once more.

As I breathed out, I swallowed and moved closer, taking him all the way down, until my nose was buried in his cropped pubic hair, "Breathe through your nose, Edward," he said more gently now, "Breathe through your nose, keep swallowing as you move your… fuck… move your… tongue," he panted out. "And … Jesus… and… stroke my bollocks… at the same … same… same… time," he said quietly.

Doing as I was told, he groaned loudly as my fingers stroked across the light fuzz of his balls, and he shuddered as, not only did I swallow but I stroked my tongue up and down the underside of his erection.

Suddenly, he grabbed my hair again and began thrusting firmly in and out of my open throat.

"Your… pretty… pretty…mouth… pretty… fucking… pretty… suck… suck harder…" he panted and rasped out as I sucked my cheeks in and increased my movements, "I need…I need…fuck …cum… need… pretty… pretty boy…love…pretty… boy… always… shit… oh God… fuck…" he garbled out as his hands slid down to cradle my throat.

He held on firmly and I knew exactly what he could feel. He could feel the large, ridged head of his cock as it pushed up and down my aching throat.

Moving my finger backwards, I tried hard _not_ to concentrate on what he was doing to my mouth to stop myself gagging again, as I swallowed repeatedly. And instead I focussed on driving him wild with my intruding finger. I not only cupped his balls, using the palm of my hand to stroke the cool, wrinkled skin but I pressed against his perineum in firm, pulsing movements. Gasping loudly in surprise, Riley started to thrust harder and faster, and with one final firm swallowing motion of my throat, his hot, salty jizz shot down the back of my throat as I continued to swallow around his invading head. Managing not to choke this time as I screwed up my eyes and breathed deeply and regularly through my nose, I continued to lightly stroke his balls as he shuddered under my touch.

"Shitting… fucking… bollocking… fucking… fuckin… fuck… fu…" Riley shuddered before I pulled back, sat on my heels and licked my lips.

It would seem that deep throating was yet another sexual skill I'd learned and added to my burgeoning repertoire!

"Fucking hell…" he panted as he staggered across the room, with wide, stunned looking eyes, as he plonked down on his couch, gasping for breath, "Your fucking mouth…" he said, "It's like the bastarding spin cycle on a washing machine… who in the name of fuck taught you to swallow like that?" he said, sounding stunned, "Douglas? One of the other Master's?" he asked, scowling.

Swallowing loudly again, I winced and screwed my eyes up at the raw sensation in the back of my throat, "No. No-one else ever fucked my mouth as hard as that. You taught me. You just did, Sir," I responded, shrugging. "I've given lots of blow jobs, but that one was very different. I never usually suck like that." I finished.

"You only just learne…?" he asked, stopping mid-sentence, and sounding shocked, "You've really never done that before?" he continued.

Shaking my head, I swallowed again before I responded, "I've given dozens of blow jobs, but no, I've never done _that_ before," I said trying to sound nonchalant in my delight that I'd pleased him so much, and failing miserably as I rasped due to my slightly raw throat and the fact that I was grinning so broadly that it looked as if I had a coat hanger wedged between my lips. "I don't know how I knew what to do…" I said, looking at him, musing as I spoke, "I just did…"

Walking towards me, he pulled me to my feet and held me at arms-length as his eyes roamed my face. He looked relieved by whatever he saw there and sighing, he smiled, wrapped his arms around my neck, leaned in, and kissed me.

It was very different to the previous kisses that we had shared. This one was long, slow, languid, erotic, searching, deep, tender… lovely, in truth. It was the best and most arousing kiss that I'd ever had as we wrapped our arms gently around one another and stroked each other's hair, faces, back, arms, arses and necks, gently and sensually. Our pelvis's moved and the feeling of sensitive head against sensitive head is overwhelming.

Moving back slightly and breaking the kiss, he looked me up and down, before he smiled kindly, "Follow me," he said, quietly, taking my hand and pulled me behind him. Nerves took a hold once more and started to march up and down my abdomen once again and as I walked, I stumbled slightly.

Leading me into the bathroom, he turned the shower on, he turned once more. "In you get, Edward," he said, calmly.

"I've showered, Sir," I said, frowning, "I promise you that I'm really clean," I said, turning to look at him, slightly affronted by his surmising that I need a fucking wash. "I scrubbed all over to make sure that I was really clean," I explained. "I even pushed soap up inside my backside so that I'm clean and fresh for you…" I muttered, embarrassed.

"I know you did, I can smell how clean you are, baby. But I want to do something to you and I need you to be in the shower when I do it," he explained, smiling.

Pushing me under the hot cascading water, he climbed in with me, turning me around and pressing my erect cock and aroused body against the icy cold glass of the door before sliding to his knees again and as he yanked my cheeks apart, he began to kiss, lick and suck the crease of my arse.

Shit…

"So lovely, Edward…" he groaned out, before he parted my cheeks further. He licked and kissed my puckered hole repeatedly as his hands gripped my upper thighs tightly.

"Soooo good…" I whimpered as he penetrated me slightly with the very tip of his tongue.

"So tight, baby," he whispered, pulling his mouth away, before he took a bar of soap, and covered his fingers in a sudsy froth.

Turning me again, I gasped loudly as he sucked the head of my cock back between his lips and gently laved and licked around the ridge and over and in the slit, until my fingers threaded through his hair and I tried to pull him closer as I rocked my hips backwards and forwards, thrusting instinctively.

Chuckling, he pulled back before gently massaging my balls with the soaped hand, "You, Cullen, are an insatiably greedy little fucker and I think that I might have just hit the fucking jack pot with you, boy," he said laughing lightly as he massaged his fingers around the base of my cock and over my balls more firmly now. "Not only are you up for anything that I want to try," he grunted as his fingers started to rub across my perineum, as he took light licks over my leaking slit. "You have the face of an angel… (lick)… the body of a fucking sex God…(lick)… and the cock (lick)… that a porn star would weep (lick)… in envy over! And the tightest arsehole I've ever felt, boy. I can't wait for it to strangle my cock…" he chuckled as he sucked the head of my cock between his lips once again.

Okay…

His massaging fingers felt unbelievable and the tingling feeling coming from my balls almost took my breath away and if he had carried on, I wouldn't have been able to last much longer to be honest.

"Ohhh… Riley…" I groaned as the tip of his finger pressed against my opening.

Aaaand… then he grabbed a razor…

Fuck…what the hell was he doing?

Was he going to castrate me for fucking his girlfriend?

FUCK!

He had TOLD me to!

Shuffling to the side, I stared at Riley with widely open eyes, trying to shove his head away with my hands as my cock started to instinctively shrivel in fright, and I tried to get away from him and shook my head. "No…" I muttered, "Please… don't do that…"

"Don't worry, baby," he explained, calmly holding onto my upper thigh, "I won't hurt you," he said, "I just want to show you how I need you to be for me at all times if we're going to continue fucking. I like my boys – and my girls too, come to that – to be well groomed and manicured. And that includes your nails, your skin, your teeth and of course, your pubes…" he finished, staring at my slightly softening cock.

If?

What the hell?

"Okay…" I said uncertainly as he began very carefully shaving away at the coppery coloured hair from my balls and around the base of my cock until only a fine, closely cropped smattering of golden fuzz remained around my now, once more, rock hard erection and reaching down, I was surprised to feel that my balls were now virtually hairless.

Wow.

Looking down, I gasped in surprise.

The shorter hair made my cock look bigger, longer and thicker than ever, I observed, as he held a hand mirror up to show me his handiwork and I stroked the delicate, wrinkled sac gently.

"Looks good, huh?" he said, grinning at me.

"God, yes…" I said, running my hands down to stroke the soft, wet, remaining hair and trailing my fingers around my leaking, once more, granite hard erection.

Nodding, I looked down at him as he stared straight into my eyes, and trailed his tongue over and around the head of my cock once more, making me moan in need.

Languidly pumping my erection, he did nothing but poke his tongue into my slit repeatedly but I could feel the tingling prickle in the base of my spine and balls that began to spiral outwards like an electrical current, alerting me to the fact that much more, and I would cum all over his face.

Just the thought of that made my entire body shudder, and Riley stopped, held my cock still and stared at me once more, searching my face.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Edward," he said quietly, grabbing my right hand and placing it on my cock gently, so that his fingers were covering mine as he leaned forwards and licked the head gently once again. We were both holding my erection, sliding our joined hands backwards and forwards over the softly silken, wet skin. "I've been really patient – unbelievably fucking patient, to be honest – I've waited for years to be inside your body – but not anymore – not anymore. I want my cock to be buried balls deep inside your hot, tight arse right now," he murmured, in between soft licks of my frenulum.

Quivering with both nerves and excitement, my heart felt like it was trying to fight its way out of my chest and the only sounds I could hear was the cascading hot water and the beating of my blood.

"Tell me something, pretty boy," he continued as he ran his nose up and along my erection, "Are you ready for me?" he said looking up at me and seemed to be torn as his face became serious.

Nodding frantically, I felt light headed as panic rose in my chest, making my heart pound harder and my breathing hitch. Looking up at me with dark, hooded eyes, he began to lick up and down my cock again, before he gently sucked the head between his lips and lapped at me almost lovingly.

"Are you scared?" he asked, pulling back and standing up slowly. As he lifted the hand held part of the shower from its holder, and began rinsing the residual hair and soap from my genitals with the warm water, he looked at me. Nodding, I opened my mouth to speak but no sound would come out as my mouth sudden felt like it had been stuffed with cotton wool. "Do you want to change your mind, Edward?" he asked, looking slightly crestfallen.

Staring at him, I looked deeply into his bright blue eyes before I swallowed thickly and slowly shook my head, "Yes, I'm nervous. Fucking scared even. I don't want it to hurt a lot and I know that it has to, your fingers were painful last night and your prick is much thicker, Riley," I explained, so quietly that I could hardly hear my own voice. "I know that it'll hurt, Douglas told me that it did, the first few times most of all. Your fingers burned as you fucked me with them last night so your cock is bound to hurt like fuck and I'm worried that I won't be able to take it," I explained, rambling stupidly as my teeth chattered as I tried to sound calm, and failed miserably. "But I don't want to stop and no, I haven't changed my mind," I finished, lifting my chin assertively and defiantly, "I want you to be the first man to fuck me in the arse and I want you to do it now."

Grinning brightly, he wrapped his arms more tightly around me before he pressed our lips together firmly. The kiss was sweet and slow and even when he stroked my tongue with his, it wasn't the frenetic kiss of when I had first arrived. It was warm, loving and gentle in comparison.

"I'll be as careful as I can be, baby," he whispered against my mouth, "I know I like it rough, but I'll try to take my time with you. I promise… it's all in the preparation and I promise to make sure that you're ready for me," he finished before he pressed our mouths together once again. "I just want you so badly…" he murmured as he opened his mouth to me. "I want you… and I want you in ways that I've never wanted anyone else, so if I need to be gentle and to take my time… that's what I'll do…"

The kiss quickly deepened and became more passionate, feverish even, as our tongues wrapped around one another, slipping, slithering and sucking, and at the same time our turgid cocks rubbed firmly together, making us groan in unison.

As the pre-cum lubricated our erections allowing smoother, slicker movement, and as my hand slid down and cupped his swinging balls gently, stroking my thumb backwards and forwards, he shuddered and whimpered.

"If you don't want the main act to be over before it's even begun," he whispered pulling his mouth back before he leaned in and sucked my earlobe lightly, "I suggest we get this show on the road and that you stop touching my balls, baby," he said before he bit down on my hypersensitive skin before he crashed him mouth onto mine once more. "Or I'll splatter all over your feet, not inside your arse, and I really want to cum inside of you, baby…" he murmured before he clamped his mouth onto mine once again.

Flicking the switch, Riley turned the water off, while still sucking my tongue, and he pulled me into his arms from the shower and walked me backwards, still kissing me deeply, without bothering to grab a towel, as we left a steady trail of water all the way along the short hallway from his bathroom.

Keeping my eyes tightly closed, as I tried, and failed, to control my pounding, terrified heart and the breathlessness fighting to drag air into my lungs. Moaning as he put his hand on the back of my head and held me closely, I held onto his back as he led me into his bedroom, before he turned me and pushed my still wet body onto his king-size bed.

"Move up and put your head on the pillows…" he murmured against my mouth as he pulled back. "Prop yourself up a little bit… watch me… fuck you… while I watch your… pretty face…" he said, between kisses.

Doing as I was told as Riley pulled back from me and left me lying naked and panting on the bed, I looked around the room for the first time as he walked across the room to the dressing table and picked something up. The room wasn't big but it was light, clean and tidy. The bed linen was white and felt slightly stiff, like a new shirt freshly out of its wrapper.

Two lamps, one either side of the bed, made everything look warm and inviting and I hoped that he would leave them on so I could watch him do whatever it was that he intended on doing to me tonight.

Smiling at me as I lay prone on his bed, his eyes devoured me and his cock jerked. "Have you ANY idea what it is doing to me, Cullen…" he muttered, licking his lips slowly. "Seeing you spread out on my bed? Naked? Waiting for me? Willing to let me fuck you? Have you?" he asked, as he climbed onto the end of the bed, and slithered slowly up my body, kissing a path as he went, until at last, he was lying fully on top of me. He continued to kiss me, as I parted my legs more widely and he knelt between them as he kissed his way down my neck and suckled my nipples, biting down on them gently and driving me mad as he did so.

Grabbing his hair tightly, I yanked him closer and tried to wrap a leg around his waist.

Pulling back, he grinned, "Turn over, baby. I want to touch you all over… and I need to be able to play with your hole…"

I didn't need telling twice and almost knocked us both off of the bed in my excited desperation to do so.

Warm, flowery smelling liquid was drizzled across my lower legs and Riley clamped a hand on both ankles and began to smooth his way upwards, spreading the oil as he did so. "This oil is safe to use with condoms, Edward," he murmured, "It won't cause us any problems…" he continued as his fingers dug deeply into my thigh muscles and continued their assent up my quivering flesh, causing me to moan out lowly in response to his firm, hard touch.

By the time he had kneaded my back, arse and arm muscles, I was openly and desperately humping his duvet, dragging the leaking head of my cock up and down the fresh bed linen and panting loudly as my muscles bunched and relaxed. His lips and tongue followed the same path as his hands and as he firmly sucked and bit me, he groaned at my response to him, turning my already aroused state into overdrive.

"Oh… oh please…" I pleaded as he parted my arse cheeks and started to press his tongue against my opening once more, slithering from the base of my spine, down to my perineum and up again. "More… Riley… fuck me…" I pleaded as he nibbled on the tender skin but didn't penetrate me. "I need to cum…" I whimpered as my pelvis began to snap more quickly of their own volition, seeking friction.

Chuckling at my desperate pleading, he slithered up my body and placed a knee on either side of my hips after he had wedged his cock in the crevice of my arse.

Sliding our bodies together, his cock humped against my crack and we both groaned and mumbled at the delicious friction aided by both his pre-cum and the spread, warm, fragrant oil.

"Fuck… oh … fuck … oh… fuck me…" I mumbled again as I bit into the bedding, desperate for more.

"No, baby," he whispered as he sucked firmly at the side of my neck, "I want to look into your beautiful eyes when I push my cock into your body for the first time…" he continued, before he sank his teeth into my shoulder.

Arching up, pushing myself up on my hands, I began to drag my cock wantonly up and down the cotton, seeking something more, squeezing his cock tightly as I did so.

"Turn over, baby…" he growled.

As I did so, he clamped our mouths together, kissing me with such need, that it felt like he was trying to crawl inside of me.

Kissing his way down my body once more, he pushed my leg out to the side and pulled it up so that my foot was flat on the mattress, opening me up.

Slowly, he took the head of my cock into his mouth once more and pressed his oily finger against my hole. "Unh…" I groaned as electricity shot around my balls and down my thighs as icy currents fired from every nerve synapse. "I'm gonna…" I grunted as his finger pressed inside of my arse and rubbed my throbbing prostate firmly for the first time today and without warning, I shot my load down his gobbling throat.

Shit!

Shuddering and writhing beneath him, I lay, jerking, with wide open, shocked eyes as his finger continued to move slowly in and out of me, pressing against my prostate relentlessly.

"FUCK!" I yelped and I just continued to cum as he milked me with his hand and his mouth.

Pulling back, he slid up my sweat slicked body once more and grinned at me.

"Fuck but your arse is tight when you cum, Edward…" he said, as he leaned forward and kissed me on my open, panting mouth, allowing me to taste my own release and my breathlessness immediately turned into groans of need again. "You're going to make me cum the second you start to tighten those fucking virginal muscles, baby…" he mumbled as he kissed me again.

Raising his hands again, he held my head firmly in place and kissed me without stopping as he pulled first one of my legs, then the other, up and around his waist and he began gently humping his turgid cock against my semi-flaccid, overly sensitive one.

The pressure left me groaning at the sensation of the way that his leaking cock was sliding up and down my instant erection and his balls bumped against my spread crack.

Gasping loudly, I began to thrust back against him as his dick hit my balls and erection repeatedly and my aching cock throbbed and bobbed between our bodies, squeezed deliciously.

"I love the way that you teenage boys have such fucking stamina…" he groaned as he sucked my tongue into his mouth, wanking it the same way that he had just done to my cock and his hand slithered down my wet body to stroke my balls once more.

Pulling my mouth away from his, gasping, I couldn't take anymore teasing, and digging my fingers into his arse cheeks, I yanked him closer to me, and said, "Fuck me… I want you now… please… please, Riley… please fuck my arse – please do it now…" I groaned and moaned out, before I latched my mouth back onto his.

Without stopping or breaking the kiss, he growled as he stroked my balls with one hand, and pushed his other hand underneath the pillow and rummaged about. Trying to ignore what was about to happen, I threw myself into the kiss, and ball stroking, with gusto and continued to thrust upwards against him. No matter what pain I was about to experience, I WANTED this – no – I NEEDED this and my body shuddered in anticipation and desperation as I acknowledged this fact.

Strangely enough, my level of fear calmed the second I recognised this and my hips rocked in response. My balls throbbed with desire and a gentle click was the only indication the he was doing anything other than kissing me and suddenly, slick, oily fingers were stroking my cock, balls and anus once more.

"Oh God…" I whimpered as he gently circled my pulsing hole repeatedly as his tongue swirled around mine, mirroring the action of his fingers. He did nothing else for the longest time and in desperation, I yanked my mouth away, as I reached down, grabbed his hand and tried to force his finger inside of me. "Stop . fucking . teasing . me!" I barked out, before I sucked his bottom lip firmly into my mouth and he chuckled.

"You're a fucking horny little bastard… Edward…" he grumbled, before pushing his index finger all the way inside in one quick, swift movement. "You've cum twice already… stop being so fucking greedy."

Freezing, I gasped, and as I relaxed, "Fuck…" I groaned into his open mouth as he started to thrust in and out of my hole gently, but quickly.

Still kissing me, he lowered his other hand and began pumping my painfully hard cock as he removed his finger from inside me replacing it with two, twisted together.

Hissing, I froze and he stopped, allowing my body to adjust as he continued to finger fuck me, increasing his speed slightly every couple of thrusts.

Within seconds, my muscles had relaxed, and I was humping against his leg, desperately trying to seek more friction against my throbbing cock as he fingered me in a firm, rhythmic movement. "More… more… move… faster… faster… please…" I groaned, and as he did as I asked, I whimpered in desire, "Soooo good…move… please… more… more… more…"

His fingers began stroking my cock and were moving in and out of my arse more quickly and firmly and as they grazed my prostate I let out an almost hysterical giggle and jerked upwards against him, forcing his fingers all the way inside of me, "MORE!" I gasped as the electric shock-style feeling ricocheted around my body.

"You want more, do you, boy?" he grunted, kissing along my jaw and rubbing our noses together, and as I nodded frantically, he opened and closed his fingers, scissoring me, stretching me as I shuddered at his deliciously caring and gentle ministrations.

Removing his fingers, he popped the bottle again, coating his fingers more thickly with the sticky lube, and replaced them inside of me once again, adding a third finger this time.

It didn't burn now, it ached, and to be honest, I was much too aroused to have tensed up, and it felt full and amazing and I started to thrust against the intrusion more firmly. As he wanked my cock with one hand and fucked my arse with the other, I bounced against him more enthusiastically now as I writhed and whimpered beneath him and kissed him so frantically that our teeth crashed against one another.

"Fuck… you're fucking amazing… beautiful… fucking hot… fucking tight… fucking perfect…" he groaned as his fingers repeatedly grazed my gland and made me whimper and jerk.

Another little click and a rustling sound made me open my eyes and as Riley pulled away from my mouth and knelt backwards, I looked down.

Gasping, I watched, transfixed, as he slid the thin layer of latex over the straining, dark red head of his large erection, rolling it down over his aroused cock dextrously with one hand, whilst still fingering me with the other.

Removing his digits from inside of me, I groaned at the feeling of loss and thrust upwards into thin air.

Riley smiled at me and shook his head as he chuckled and stroked a finger over the slit of my quivering cock, "You're a dirty little whore, Cullen," he said, "Fucking my fingers like that, boy," he said. "Did you like the way your arse felt when I was fucking you with three fingers?" he asked and as I nodded enthusiastically, he smiled again. "Oh, baby, you haven't felt anything yet, I promise you," he said, staring at me with black eyes, and a light sheen of sweat covering his flushed cheeks. "Wait until you feel the ridge around the head of my cock as it rubs your prostate… and my balls slapping against your skin… just wait. You'll feel like you're flying, baby. Flying…" he whispered as he continued to stare at me before he sucked my sticky fluids from the tip of his finger.

He then poured a liberal amount of lube onto his cock and his fingers and palm before he began wanking himself slowly and laboriously in front of me. The slippery, squelchy sounds made me shudder and I grabbed his hand in desperation, "Fuck…" I growled out, "Don't fucking tease me anymore, Riley," I hissed. "I want that fucking big cock of yours in my arse, and I want it now…" I groaned as I raised my legs away from his waist, pulling my knees up and pressing them against my chest, opening myself up to him further, and using his body as leverage as I pressed my feet against him as I thrust against thin air.

Grinning again, he poured more lube onto his fingers before he spread it around my hole, pushing a slick finger inside of me once more, making me groan in appreciation as he added a second and then a third. The pressure was delicious and I groaned a loud guttural sound into the silence of the bedroom as he pressed against my prostate once again. Jerking upwards I gasped as he pressed harder now, "Fuck! Riley!" I all but yelled.

"Are you ready for me, Edward? Are you really ready for me to fuck you?" he asked seriously.

As I nodded, I said, "Yes, please, Riley, please. Just DO IT!" I shouted out in desperation, "Please…please…I need to cum so badly…please…just… please… please… please… " I whimpered, pathetically thrusting my hips as my cock bumped off my stomach.

"I'll be as gentle as I can… but you need to relax. The first time is always different… just breathe for me, baby…" he whispered, leaning forwards and kissing my mouth slowly but deeply once more, "I want to make you feel good," he said, "I want you to enjoy it as much as I'm going to, baby. I want you to cum first so that you squeeze my cock nicely when you do, boy," he whispered, licking his lips as he stared at my twitching erection.

"Just do it…" I whimpered as I jerked my pelvis upwards again, frustration tinging my arousal now, "Please…"

Lifting my ankles up onto his shoulders once more, he pushed two fingers into my arse again, thrusting quick, hard and fast and as I gasped into his mouth, he began fucking me with his tongue. "So good! Soooo fucking goooood…" I panted as he stroked my gland repeatedly, causing my cock to jerk and twitch in desperation, "Keep doing that and I'm going to cum too soon, Riley," I whimpered as he pressed more firmly against me, "Please don't make me cum again until you're inside me… please," I begged.

Just as I felt my anal muscles relax and my balls begin to throb and tingle, he pulled his fingers out of me and pushed the head of his big cock passed against my first ring of muscle. As he leaned forwards, my body swallowed the intrusion quickly, causing me to jar my movements to a sudden stop in shock.

Fuck.

Hissing, I clenched my teeth, eyes and arse tightly, forcing him to cease his movements as the sharp, stinging, burning pain registered in my lust-addled brain and a tear trickled down my cheek. It felt like I was being split open and I lay, stock still, with wide staring eyes as I looked at the ceiling, totally unfocussed.

Not moving any further, he continued kissing my mouth, passionately and desperately, and as I relaxed again, he pushed in a little further; this time passed the second ring of muscle and the thick ridge around the head of his prick stopped my spasming muscles from pushing his cock back out again.

The pain felt as if I'd been slashed open, and gasping, I tried to sit up and get away from him as the burning pain resonated throughout my quivering body and brought more tears to my eyes. Shoving against him with my hands, I dropped my thighs completely out to the side, spreading myself open and I let out a dry, gasping sob into his mouth, as I moved my arms around him, grabbed onto his back and held him still.

"Stop…" I whimpered, "Oh, Riley… please… please stop… it hurts… burns… burns… shit…" I cried out as another tear slid from the corner of my left eye, "That really hurts… please…"

The feeling of being stretched by this… this… massive, hard _thing _that was shoving its way inside of me, covered in the most peculiar feeling soft, slimy, cold _stuff_, was agonising, and I whimpered and panted as another tear trickled down my face as every muscle contracted in rebellion.

Riley pulled his mouth away from mine, moved back a little and stared at me, "Is it… too painful… Edward?" he asked, "I can stop … fuck… completely, and you can … can… blow… me… blow me again… instead?" he said, frowning. "Or we… we… we can… just stop…" he stammered.

Shaking my head, I let out a shaky breath, forcing myself to relax as I did so, moving my hands down to his cheeks and yanking him closer to my sweaty body once again. As I breathed out deliberately, bearing down, forcing my anal muscles to relax, his entire cock pushed inside of me for the first time, until he was buried up to the hilt in my arse, causing him to groan and me to whimper.

"Just don't move for a bit," I hissed out at the sharp, stabbing, burning pain increased to an almost unbearable level, "Please… give me a bit of time… please…" I pleaded.

He did as I asked and held himself rigidly upright on his forearms.

"Let me get used… used… oh God…" I trailed off as my body calmed and relaxed into the full intrusion of his cock and I panted lightly through the burn, as tears trickled down my flushed cheeks continuously now.

Riley pushed further up on his hands, shuddering at the strain of holding back and looked agonised as he shook and quivered in his efforts to remain still and stared at me.

My legs were completely straight as my calves rested on his shoulders and inhaling and exhaling deeply I battled to relax my screaming muscles, tendons and ligaments.

Fuck.

I knew that I was going to be exhausted and seriously sore the next day because the way that every muscle was clenching meant that I was pretty much putting my poor body through a full fucking workout. We remained like this until my breathing settled and the pain turned into a dull, aching throb of need and desire. Riley was breathing loudly now, scarlet in the face and sweating heavily as tiny droplets dripped off of his nose and chin and landed on my flushed, damp chest.

Clenching my muscles slightly, my cock jerked in response as a deliciously hot tingly feeling spread from my arse, through my balls and up my erection. "Move," I said quietly and simply, as I moved my hands and pushed against his shoulders, and slid my legs down so that my knees were either side of his hands, before yanking his body flat against me once more, "Riley," I whispered, sucking his bottom lip between my teeth, "Fuck me… move… it's okay now…it feels soooo good… so full… fuuuucckkk…" I groaned, raising my pelvis up towards him, thus changing the angle and making him moan loudly as he dropped forwards.

As our mouths met once again and our tongues danced and made love to one another as our desperate lips and teeth bashed and clattered painfully, Riley began to fuck me, moving slowly and deliberately in and out of my delirious body. While one hand grasped one of my ankles and lifted my arse up into the air and pulled my leg out to the side slightly, opening me up more, the other hand cupped the side of my face, almost tenderly and stroked against my soft scruff gently.

Every thrust hit of the ridge of his swollen head hit my prostate and the initial pain and discomfort turned into an overwhelming surge of lust and arousal, and within minutes, I began to meet him thrust for thrust.

Pulling himself up on his knees, he held onto me feet, pulled my legs out to the side, stretching me widely, and looked down and watched as he fucked me.

Turning my head to the side, I could see us in the mirrored wardrobe door. Every muscle, tendon and sinew bulged in his efforts, and seeing that I wasn't looking at him anymore, he turned to watch us in the mirror as well.

"Fuck…" he groaned, "Have you any fucking idea how amazing that looks? Huh? Every time your… tight… fucking… tight… fuck… arse… swallows my cock… shit… so tight… so fucking… fucking… tight…" he whined as he looked down to my exposed cock and arse.

Arching my head back, I rolled and rocked my pelvis up and around as the feelings overwhelmed me completely. "Fucking… amazing…" I panted out. "I didn't know… I didn't …know… I didn't… know…" I panted out with every crashing thrust we made against one another. "Harder… Riley… faster… fuck… me…"

Reaching forwards, I grabbed his hands in mine and used it as propulsion to rock against him harder and faster. "Shit, Edward… baby…" he groaned as his balls thumped and slapped against me with every thrust, "So fucking… so… goooood… don't say… shit… like that… I'll cum too soon… baby…" he groaned, before I yanked him hard, so that our bodies were pressed together firmly once more.

"You … fucking… talk… too… much… fuck me… HARDER… and shut the… fuck up… and kiss me…" I growled out as I slammed my mouth firmly against his once more.

Pulling his mouth from mine again, leaving my lips feeling bruised, "I love this, Edward…love… soooo good…" he mumbled… "So long… so long… too long… waited for you… soooo long… waited… wanted… wanted… fuck… fuck… baby… loved… needed… need… perfect…" he whimpered, kissing and chewing at my swollen feeling lips, as I raised my pelvis up and down in time with his thrusts, causing friction to the head of my own cock with the hair from both of our happy trails, "You're so perfect. Beautiful. Beautiful boy… sooo lovely. Perfect… perfect… perfect… Just made for me… tightest… tightest arse… I've ever felt… tightest… want you… always… love… this… love…" he continued as he stared into my eyes.

Shit.

Pulling at his upper arms again, he fell forwards and sucked on my neck and shoulders firmly, sinking his teeth into my carotid artery, painfully hard. He then licked along my neck, taking the pain away, and making me whimper and jerk upwards once more. The mixing of pain and pleasure just added to the soup of feelings that was swirling and surging around my hyper-aroused, hormone raddled body, causing me to start to quake as his hand reached down and stroked my balls gently.

"Baby…" he whimpered as he changed the angle a little and thrust a tiny bit faster, "Baby…"

Our sweat slicked bodies slid over one another and the heat was almost unbearable as we moved faster and faster and he began to thrust even harder inside of me, tilting his pelvis sharply upwards and just as he had promised, the way that the thick ridge at the base of his head massaged my prostate relentlessly, made me feel as if I was floating above the bed, such was the sensory overload. Every synapse was firing out at the same time and it was almost too much for my brain to be able to comprehend.

"Fucking hell! Riley!" I yelled out, "Like that! Just… fuck… like that… just… God… don't stop! More… more… more… more… more… more…" I whimpered out as I sucked his scruff covered jaw and jerked my hips in response to his increased speed. As I dropped my knees down until they were hooked over his elbows, I rocked against him harder and faster, thrusting my hips up matching his every movement with a mirror image of desperation.

The delicious, throbbingly full feeling ache inside my backside every time he thrust all the way inside of me so that his balls slapped against my body just added to the burn of lust that had engulfed my entire system. I welcomed the sting as I tightened every muscle and tendon in my body, trying to have more of him buried in my arse with every upward thrust.

"Harder!" I gasped out, "Fuck me harder! Please! Fuck me harder, Riley, I'm going to cum!" I panted as my balls prickled every time he forced his cock into my desperately fluttering and welcoming arse. "I need to cum! Make me cum!" I barked out, quivering and quaking from head to toe.

Clawing, raking and whimpering at his hair, shoulders and back – scratching and tearing at any part of him that I could grab – I could feel my balls begin to tingle and burn as they lifted closer to my body and my orgasm built – built – built. Until, with white lights exploding in front of my wide open eyes, I arched my back, clenched my anus tightly around his intruding cock as my balls banged against him, and I screamed loudly, cumming in long rope-like spurts all over my belly, chest, neck and even my chin.

Star bursts exploded inside my head and my vision blurred as my eyes rolled back of their own volition. Everything went black as my body disconnected from my brain momentarily as agonised groans left Riley's throat as my body pulsed and spasmed around his still thrusting cock.

Every penetration seemed to milk my prostate more and my cock twitched and jerked with the force of his body against mine as my warm, sticky jizz spread between our pressed-together bodies and made us slip and slide more than ever.

My orgasm set Riley's off and the rhythmic movements of my muscles squeezed his cock tightly, milky him relentlessly. Throwing his head back, he pulled himself upright as he grabbed my ankles and spread my legs into a wide open split as he frantically pounded into me in a wildly erratic pace, snapping his hips so hard and fast that he blurred as I tried to focus on him, and he roared and yelled so loudly that my ears hurt as he poured his cum into the condom, buried deep inside my body for the first time.

"Fucking… fucking… shit… Jesus… Christ… perfect… tight… shit… tight… sooo fucking… tight… perfect… beautiful… love… shit…" he said, stammering, panting, gasping and rasping.

Collapsing on top of me, he was flushed, sweat and cum slicked, and breathless. We lay like that for ages, and he tenderly stroked my hair and face until we both got our breaths back, before he slowly slipped out of my body and rolled onto his back.

Wincing as his softening cock left my still pulsing and throbbing backside, I turned onto my side and stared at him. He was flushed, sweaty and beautiful as he rolled over to stare at me too. As he smiled at me, his eyes were moist, soft and tired looking and his hair was stuck firmly to his head. His lips were bright red and swollen from all of our kissing and chewing. Added to that, there was a huge florid love bite on the side of his neck and as he flopped onto his back again, he spread his legs wide and sighed out a shuddering breath.

Not only did he have the horribly vivid love bite on his neck, but his shoulders, neck and upper arms were scratched and scraped to pieces and I groaned because that was going to be virtually impossible to disguise, especially during swimming lessons.

Shit.

I have no idea when I did all that to him, and looking down at the bed, I scowled and curled my lip up at the state of his once white duvet cover.

Anal sex is NOT for the faint hearted and is horribly messy…

Very fucking messy…

Seeing the horrified expression on my face as I looked at the smeared and ruined bedding, Riley's eyes dropped southwards and he started to laugh, "Now… you see… why I said be careful… what you ate. Next… time, I'll make… you have an enema… before we fuck," he said, panting.

"Okay," I said simply, as my cock and I both lay limp on the mattress, as sheer exhaustion began to wash over me and my eyes fluttered as I fought to keep them open.

Three orgasms were normal for me most days, but the intensity of today as well as the strength of every release, meant that I was on the verge of passing out from sated exhaustion.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, gently stroking my sweat-soaked hair with one finger. "Was it okay? Did you like it? Was I too rough for you? Are you very sore?"

"I'm fine," I said, truthfully, yawning loudly, as I rolled onto my stomach and locked my ankles in the air behind us, "That was fucking amazing…" I whispered, "Fucking, absolutely and utterly amazing…" I continued, "I ache a bit, and it feels as if you're still inside me to be honest… but…" I whispered, as I leaned over and stroked along his belly, feeling my drying cum all over his skin. "I want to do it again… right now…" I said as I leaned over and trailed my tongue through my own spilled fluids, dragging his hair along with it.

"Fucking hell, Edward!" he gasped out, grabbing my face, "Is enough never fucking enough for you?"

"No… I don't think it ever will be with you two, you know?" I said, honestly, as I poked my tongue into his belly button.

I don't remember WHEN he had removed the soiled condom, but he had, and his pink, shiny, clean, wet cock twitched as I turned my face to the side and rested it on his abdomen.

"Come on, Princess," Riley said, grinning, "Let's get cleaned up, because if you keep saying shit like that, I might just take you up on your offer and you will need a couple of days off of school, sports and fucking, before I do that to you again or you won't be able to walk for a week, baby!" he laughed, "And guess what?" he asked.

"What?" I quizzed, scowling as I sat up and ran my fingers through my tangled hair.

"Well, baby, boy," he said, as his eyes roamed my body, "Your cock is raring to go again, and don't forget, you get to fuck my arse next…" he said.

My cock shot up even harder and my balls throbbed, making me light headed as it did so and feeling immediately rejuvenated, I leapt to my feet, grabbed his hand and jerked him off of the bed. "What are you fucking waiting for then, Riley?" I barked out, as I ran into the bathroom, holding both of his hands and dragging him behind me into the shower, laughing loudly as I did so.

Turning the water on once we were standing on the vitreous base, he squealed when the icy cold shards hit his hot, sweaty, cum soaked flesh and we both sniggered. "You sound like a fucking girl!" I laughed as he swatted my bare, throbbing backside with the back of his fingers, making me jerk.

We cleaned up in the shower, soaping one another tenderly with fingers and sponges, during which we laughed, kissed, stroked, sucked and groped one another, wanking the other, with soaped hands, to orgasm simultaneously as we did so. We came within minutes of the other, gasping and yelling loudly as we splattered our hot jizz all over one another once more.

Dropping to my knees, quickly, I hungrily and greedily licked up as much of his spilled creamy fluids as I could from his wet skin before it washed away and he held my head tightly as I did so.

"Fuck…" he muttered, "Fucking …fucking… hell… you are a …fucking… fucking… randy… insatiable… bastard…" he gasped out, sounding shocked.

Dragging ourselves, wearily, out of the cubicle, we draped ourselves in white towels before we dried each other, tenderly, and although I stayed undressed, Riley pulled on his boxer shorts once more.

Exhausted, and happy, we sat at the small table in his kitchen, eating fruit, chocolate biscuits and salty crisps, and drank lots of water. "Did you like that, Edward?" Riley asked, looking unbelievably nervous as he macerated a tube of crisps into a pile of little more than dust on a plate before him. "I have to ask you something…" he said, quietly.

Oh God… what does he want to know?

"What do you need to know?" I said, as calmly as I could. "What was there not to like?"

"Okay. Be honest with me. Okay? Please tell me the truth, Edward. Do you want us to do that again, or was it too painful? Are you very sore? I know you were teasing me in the bedroom before, I know you didn't really want to do it again, just yet…"

"Does it always hurt like that?" I asked, quickly as I looked at him, "When you first shove inside I mean, or does it get easier?"

"Well…" he said, before taking a mouthful of water and swallowing loudly, "It is always a bit uncomfortable at first, to be honest, but your body learns how to deal with it and the more practice you have, the more you know how to prepare yourself, and your partner, to make it easier. You also end up craving it more because of the intensity of the feelings that it produces. Are you in a lot of pain, Edward?" he asked, looking terribly worried.

Looking at him closely, I smiled, "Yes. Yes, I won't lie to you, Riley, I am a bit sore, but that's to be expected, isn't it? You have a big cock and I hadn't done it before, and, you know, we went at it pretty hard, didn't we?" I chuckled, "But you have no idea what that just felt like to me. It was amazing. Remarkable. It was like it was something that I've been waiting for, although I didn't know it. So, yes, I loved the feeling of your cock as it fucked my tight arse, and, _yes_, I really liked it." I said, "And I _really _do want to do it again… in fact… I know we can't, for obvious reasons… but I really would like to do it again, right now…" I said, honestly.

"Jesus Christ, Edward…" he muttered, "Don't you feel any embarrassment at all in discussing sex?"

"No. Not usually," I said, shrugging, "I like you and I liked what you just did to my body. Why lie? Why play games and talk shit? I loved you fucking me, Riley, I really loved it and I want to do it again. Why mess about, wasting time? I know what I want and don't usually waste my time pretending not to want something," I said staring into his eyes.

"Do you know something?" Riley said, blushing slightly and looking down at my moving fingers, before he leaned forwards and took my hand in his.

"What?" I asked, frowning.

This felt almost too intimate to be honest.

He'd spent the last four hours sucking my cock, wanking me off and buried balls deep inside of me, and I could handle the intimacy of our bodies being joined like a lock and key, yet holding hands felt more personal, somehow and I didn't like it. Strange as it sounds, it really felt far more private and intense and I didn't feel exactly comfortable with that.

He spent ages twisting our fingers loosely together, stroking the back of one of my hands with his thumb before he continued, "You have beautiful hands, Edward. I know how skilled you are musically, and no wonder… these fingers…" he murmured, sounding breathless, "Put it this way… you have fucking magical hands… like your mouth." he says, gruffly. "Do you know something?" he asks, and as I shake my head, he licks his lips, "You are one hot fucking fuck, Edward Cullen," he said, looking up at me intently, "No. You are FAR more than that to me… far more…" he says, sounding wistful. "Much, much more than a one-off, quick fuck… so much more…"

Shifting slightly in my seat, not only from the way that my throbbing rock hard erection was rubbing against the edge of the oil cloth that covered the small table, but more from the touch of embarrassed discomfort that I'd felt, and, as I tried to pull my hands away, he gripped me more firmly.

"Did you know that I've wanted you for much longer than I dare to admit to Edward? Even to myself?" he says. "Do you know that I've wanted you for years, but it was illegal before and I held back?" he asks. As I shake my head, slowly, he continues, "Put it this way… I remember the day that you arrived at the school and I wouldn't have approached you then, you were far too young. And to be honest I wasn't interested in you like that then," he explained. "I just remembered how pretty, bewildered and lost you looked."

This statement shocked me to be honest, because, although I had known that from when I was about fifteen he had started to watch me and my growing cock closely, what I hadn't known was the fact that he had watched me from the age of fourteen and that was more than a bit of a surprise.

"When I was twelve?" I asked, shocked.

"No. Not in a sexual way, Edward, of course not!" he said sounding equally as shocked. "I first started finding you appealing just after you turned fifteen. You're a beautiful boy! But I'd all but given up on ever having anything to do with you in anyway other than being your sports master," he continued, "I broke all the rules with both Jace and Douglas, neither of them were sixteen when we first got it together, and I've done it before, with other boys who were also under age, but with you? Well, with you I wanted it to be different. I wanted it to be _right, _if it was going to happen at all. I want more than just a quick one-time fuck with you, Edward. You have to know that?" he asks, staring at me with moist eyes.

Fuck.

"Um…" I began, looking down at our still joined fingers, unsure how to respond to his declarations.

"And last night when you seemed as eager to touch me as I was to touch you for the first time, I just got overwhelmed and I couldn't resist you any longer. You have no idea how long I've wanted to even just kiss you, let along touch you and fuck you, baby. You're perfect…" he says, as he trails one finger along my jaw, "Fucking perfect, boy…" he murmured, licking his lips frantically as beads of sweat dot his top lip. "Fuck… I've just cum harder than I ever have before, and I want you all over again…" he mutters as he lifts my hand and slowly, firmly and languidly begins to suck my middle finger, wanking it with his mouth.

"Fucking hell…" I mutter as my cock starts to beat the Military Two Step against the table cloth.

"I want to fuck your arse again… right now, Edward, but I won't. Not tonight, because I know you must be sore…" he says, staring at me, waiting for me to comment. When I don't, he coughs a little, before he continues. "But that aside, have you any idea just how very easy it would be to fall for you? Douglas is head over heels in love with you, and I get why now, do you know that, Edward?" he asked, blushing.

Fall for?

As in _love_?

Fuck.

"Fall for?" I replied flatly, scowling. "Do you mean _fall_ for, fall for?" I asked, jabbering.

"Yes…" he replied, smiling at me brightly.

Shit.

"Well, I don't believe in love and romance, Riley," I explained, needing to make this right and to let him know in no uncertain terms what I expected from my time with him, Jacinta and even with Douglas. So, shaking my head and pulling my hands away from his, I inhaled deeply, girding myself, before taking a large glug of water. "I want to fuck, that's all, and I want to learn to be the best at it. After last night, and just now, I know that you are much better than I am, Riley, and I'm a competitive wanker and I have to be the best at everything. I want you to teach me how to fuck a man and to blow his mind as I'm doing it. I want to be fucked by you in every way possible and I want to know how to fuck a woman properly. I want to know every position, everything, but I'm not interested in falling in love or being in love." I said, coolly. "I don't want anyone to love me. Ever. I want sex." I nodded, "I just want to fuck, that's all," I said, shrugging and munching down another handful of crisps.

"Fuck, but you're a callous little fucker, Cullen," he said, sounding appalled.

Grinning at him, I continued, "Well, I guess that's true, but my response to that would be, take it or leave it. You can fuck me any way you want, wherever, and whenever you want, but you won't make me feel anything for you other than the fact that I fancy the arse off of you." I said as my confidence built exponentially. "And to be honest? The fact that you waited until I was over age is a bit of a moot point really. I would have let you fuck me at least a year ago, and, technically, it's still not_ legal_ everywhere in the world, you!" I chuckled, "I was only sixteen two weeks ago." I say, laughing. "I know these things, Riley," I finished, tapping the side of my nose, "I'm going to study the law, remember?"

"Don't you want to fall in love one day?" he asked, looking surprised at my cold statement, but ignoring my underage statement at the same time.

"Nope," I said decisively, "Love is something that I don't think exists," I said, shrugging and wiping my hands on a paper napkin. "Maybe a mother loves her baby, I don't know, mine died pushing me into the world, so I have no experience of that either. But in my opinion, no other kind does. Lust? Yes. Absolutely. But love? No way." I said feeling anger rise in my chest at the thought that this was as good as it was ever going to get in my life. "I want to be fucked. Not loved. Not by anyone."

Sex was purely a physical manifestation of the mind's basest of urges, nothing else. People said that making love with someone you had feelings for was totally different, but in my young mind that was a heap of bollocks.

Riley sat, open mouthed, and flushed, as he stared at me in disbelief. "No one has ever shown you love, have they, Edward?" he asked, bewildered. "You have all that money and privilege," he continued, shaking his head. "But no-one has ever loved you? Have they? You poor boy…" he began as he stretched his hand towards my arm. "I could if you…" he said as I yanked my arm back as if burned.

"Okay, Riley," I snapped. "As you said, so very eloquently before you fucked the life out of me, let's get this show on the road, shall we?" I said firmly, wanting to end this unpalatable conversation as quickly as possible. I wanted my body to be fucked with, not my mind. I liked to keep my feelings locked down as tightly as possible and right now he was making me feel confused, lost and uncomfortable. "You fucked me, now I want to see what all the fuss is about," I finished, firmly.

Raising his eyebrows in shock, Riley took a swig of water, nodded and stood up, "Okay," he said, quietly and almost breathlessly. "What do you want to do first?" he asked.

Not bothering to be subtle, I walked around the table, grabbed the front of his boxers and started to yank them down where he sat as he gasped out in surprise. "Lie down on the table for me, Riley," I said firmly, as my cock bounced and twitched in anticipation once again.

"What?" he asked shocked. "What do you mean? Why do you want me to lie on the table, Edward? Don't you want to go back into the bedroom? Wouldn't that be more comfortable for us both?" he asked. "What are you doing?"

"Lie on the fucking table!" I barked loudly, "How hard is that for you to understand? I want to suck your balls and lick your arsehole, and I need you to spread open to let me do that. Is that fucking okay?" I said authoritatively.

Squeaking, he leapt to his feet, kicked his boxer shorts off of his ankles, nodding frantically, and without a second thought, he swiped his arm across the table, scattering the provisions that were so inconsiderably cluttering it, smashing several plates and glasses as he did so. Clambering onto the small wooden table, he turned over, and lying down, he planted his feet firmly on the hard, empty surface and pulled his knees up as he spread his legs wide. His cock was already rock hard and leaking.

Grabbing his knees, I pulled him closer to the edge of the table and leaned over him, pressing our bodies together, and kissing and licking his mouth once more. Moving down his body, I sucked and bit his rock hard nipples, grazing my teeth over the little nubs until he started to groan and writhe beneath me.

After trailing down his light belly fuzz, I slid my tongue, once, along his weeping slit, and looking up, I grinned as he whimpered before I dropped to my knees in front of him. "You taste so fucking good, Riley…" I groaned, "Tell me, do you want me to suck you until you cum in my mouth again, or do you want me to fuck your arse?" I said.

"Fuck…" he panted, his head dropping backwards against the wood with a loud thud, "Fuck my arse… please… baby…" he muttered as he thrust his pelvis upwards.

Ignoring his cock completely now, I licked and lapped at his balls, sucking them into my mouth firmly, laving them with my tongue as I did so, until he was whimpering and whining and his cock leaked a slender thread of its delicious syrup all over his belly.

Grinning, I used both of my hands and slid them under his cheeks, lifting him up a little bit, and pushing them widely apart; I exposed his opening fully to my eyes for the very first time.

I'd never really looked at an arsehole before, and I didn't quite know what to expect, but he needed this, and frankly so did I, so inhaling sharply, I dipped my head.

Leaning forward fully, I nervously trailed my tongue up and over and around and around the pink star shaped, puckered, quivering flesh. He smelt and tasted musky, like concentrated cum, but nothing unpleasant, and pressing my fingers deeply into his arse muscles, I pushed my tongue backwards and forwards along his perineum, making him shudder repeatedly.

As his moans increased and his hips began to gently thrust upwards of their own will, I pressed my tongue firmly against his anus and penetrated him slightly before I moved back and started to lick and suckle the inside of his thigh, and then trailed my nose lightly along his groin. Suddenly, I sucked a piece of his hair covered skin on the inside of his thigh into my mouth hard, and increased the pressure.

As he hissed, I pulled back, releasing his flesh and grinned at the dark purple bruise left behind. "There you go, Riley," I rasped, "Look at that tomorrow and remember what we just did…" I said, firmly.

He whined and arched upwards as I flicked my tongue along the head of his cock and quickly dropped down to my knees where I started to kiss and suck upwards from his calf muscles.

"Ohhhhhh… Godddd…" he grumbled.

Sucking gently on the tender flesh on the inside of his knee, I repeated my actions but from his ankle this time, switching to his other leg and he hissed in disappointment.

"Edward… you fucking prick … little… shit… prick tease… you fucking beautiful boy… you fucking… mine… mine… mine…" he moaned deeply thrilling me that I was having this effect on him.

As I reached the top of his inner thigh, my nose bumped, rubbed and nudged against his swollen sac and he groaned appreciatively. I stroked my tongue up and down his perineum and, yanking his legs over my shoulders I opened him up once more, and began to probe inside of him repeatedly.

He was panting and puffing, his flesh felt warm and damp against my hands as I continued with my ministrations.

"More… oh God… Edward…" he whispered, raising his pelvis up and down rapidly as I pushed my tongue quickly against his hole again and again, fucking him with just the very tip, never properly penetrating, but applying enough pressure to drive him crazy.

Sitting back, I grabbed his hand as I stood up, forcing him to sit upright once more.

He looked slightly bewildered, as well as totally dishevelled as he moaned and grumbled as he stared at me, "Why are you fucking well stopping, boy?" he asked as he began to palm his leaking cock.

"Follow me, Riley," I said, sounding far more confident than I felt, as I held my hand out.

"Follow you?" he asked, scowling at me again, "What the fuck do you mean? Where the fuck do you want me to follow you to?"

Smiling, I grabbed his hand and tugged, making him sit up. "It's my turn," I said, "It's my turn to be inside of you now. I'm going to fuck you, and I'm going to do it right now," I finished, pulling him off of the table and headed into the living room area, dragging him firmly behind me with one hand, as I pumped my rigid cock with the other one.

"Where are you taking me?" he scowled, looking around, "The condoms and lube are in the bedroom, Edward. I don't let anyone fuck my arse without being safely wrapped first, boy," he said firmly, "Even you. However important you are to me, even you aren't doing that to me, boy," he said firmly, "And the condoms are under the pillow," he finished, setting his mouth in a hard, set line as he yanked up both to a halt.

"Yours might be," I explained, "But mine are in my pencil case."

"You did it?" he asked, sounding shocked, "You went out and bought condoms and lube on your own? Fucking hell, Edward, you really did that?"

"Of course," I said, nonchalantly, shrugging, "You told me to, didn't you?" I said, as I turned around and started kissing him, "And you should know by now, MISTER Samuel, _I'm a very good boy…"_ I teased.

"Shit…" he muttered, "Douglas still struggles going into the chemist and buying stuff and we've been fucking for years!" he said, sounding stunned. "You are an insatiable little fucker, aren't you, Cullen?" he asked, shocked, as he stared at me.

"Yes. Yes, Mr Samuel," I said grinning, before I licked my lips and stared at his twitching cock once again, "I think I just might be. And as you said earlier, you hit the jackpot. Well… I think we both did, and right fucking now, I'm fucking insatiable to be buried balls deep inside your arse, so what the fuck are we waiting for?" I said, putting my hands on my hips and began to impatiently tap my foot on the wooden floor, making my cock bob about as I did so.

Without having to say another word, Riley hurled himself at me, growling, and grabbed the sides of my head, kissing me once more. There was nothing gentle or affectionate in this kiss, it was brutal and animalistic and as my hands raked and grabbed at his body, tugging his cock and balls, making him whine in desperation, he in turn did the same to me before grabbing our erections in one hand and he began rubbing our cocks together causing the most delicious friction that I had ever felt.

The electrical surges running amok through my body were so all encompassing that my mind disconnected from reality and just took over. I didn't even have to think about what I was doing, or was going to do, I just fucking did it. This time, I took charge, and before he could do anything about it, I began to frantically fuck his mouth with my tongue. I started to firmly suck his tongue as my left hand cupped his balls and tugged and twisted them gently.

Pulling back slightly, I stared at him.

His manic eyes were dark and dangerous as they darted around looking me over rapidly and they glistened with an emotion of some kind that I could only imagine was lust, and his cheeks were flushed and slightly damp from sweat. His lovely hair was plastered to his scalp and the slight musky odour that came off of his skin cranked my desire up to a fevered pitch.

Fuck.

He'd never looked so fucking hot and I couldn't wait any longer.

"Get on your hands and knees," I said as I yanked my pencil case open, scattering its contents all over the wooden floor as I grabbed a packet of condoms and the lube. "I want to fuck you from behind," I ordered as he stared at me.

Without a word, he nodded, dropped to his hands and knees and turned around, doing exactly as I had ordered him to do.

Fuck.

His back moved up and down as he breathed in frantically and quickly, as he spread his legs a little further apart in anticipation of what was coming next.

What in the name of God do I do now?

…**..ooOoo….**

**Right. Well there you have it. And if I wasn't booted off of Fanfic before for ISS, I bloody well will be for this one!**

**I hoped you enjoyed it, if you did, please leave me a wee bit of love, if you didn't, oh well, sorry, I tried.**

**More soon, and next, Edward learns yet another sexual skill…**

**The truly terrifying thing is that when I wrote this, I could see Michael Fassbender in the role of Riley! THAT particular scenario is my latest obsession and fascination.**

**Sigh.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well… **

**We're back… **

**My naughty boys are back in Riley's living room, on their knees, on the floor… and are more than ready for just a wee bit more fun and games…**

**I truly hope to God that you are too…**

**Now. Remember, this story is very different to ISS, it jumps from past to present tense all the time as he remembers different things and can sometimes feel a bit disjointed because of this fact.**

**When their stories meet up, it will be pretty much all in present tense.**

…**.**

**Firstly, I just want to say thank you to Lynn. Without her, there would be no story, she is kind, loving and a true friend. She is always there when I need her… and I don't know what I would do without her most days. Love you sweetie x**

**Sooooo the last chapter caused a wee bit of a stir with those of you who read and reviewed it, didn't it?**

**Most of you loved it, thank goodness, one or two weren't so sure, and now I'm crapping myself about posting this one, to be honest!**

**Yet again, this is a slash chapter—well, no—this is 'an any hole will do' chapter—and the boys continue where they finished in the last one.**

**If slash, strong language and graphic sex aren't your thing, WALK AWAY.**

**Please.**

**Please.**

** !**

**Please pay heed to the warning below.**

**IF YOU'RE UNDER 18, OR ARE OF A SENSITIVE DISPOSITION, WALK AWAY. THIS STORY IS FOR ADULTS ONLY AS IT CONTAINS STRONG SEXUAL CONTENT – SLASH, HETEROSEXUAL, VANILLA AS WELL AS BDSM - AND THERE ARE PASSING REFERENCES TO DRUGS, ALCOHOL AND MENSTRUATION. IF THEY AREN'T YOUR BAG, BABY, CLICK TO ANOTHER PAGE!**

**PLEASE REMEMBER THAT THE AGE OF CONSENT FOR FULL SEX, BOTH HETEROSEXUAL AND HOMOSEXUAL, IS SIXTEEN, IN THE UNITED KINGDOM. **

**I am English, my characters are from the UK and I follow the UK's laws so remember this, please!**

**MOST TEENAGE BOYS, AND MANY GIRLS, EXPERIMENT LONG BEFORE THEY ARE IN THEIR TWENTIES, SO THINK BACK TO YOUR OWN EARLY FUMBLINGS WHEN READING THIS AND PLEASE DON'T JUDGE TOO HARSHLY!**

**Everything in this story is either initiated by Edward, or is totally with his enthusiastic consent. **

**I don't own Twilight, the follicaly lustrous Mrs S M does. I do, however, own the plot lines, story, character quirks and original people!**

**Hugs and loves and I hope you like this chapter.**

**ENJOY.**

**STAND BY YOUR MAN**

**CHAPTER SIX**

_**Sometimes it's hard to be a woman  
Giving all your love to just one man  
You'll have bad times  
And he'll have good times  
Doin things that you don't understand  
But if you love him  
You'll forgive him  
Even though he's hard to understand  
And if you love him  
Oh, be proud of him  
Cause after all he's just a man**_

Stand by your man  
Give him two arms to cling to  
And something warm to come to  
When nights are cold and lonely

Stand by your man  
And show the world you love him  
Keep giving all the love you can  
Stand by your man

Stand by your man  
And show the world you love him  
Keep giving all the love you can  
Stand by your man."

**...ooOoo…**

**Previously**

**His lovely hair was plastered to his scalp and the slight musky odour that came off of his skin cranked my desire up to a fevered pitch.**

**Fuck.**

**He had never looked so fucking hot and I couldn't wait any longer.**

"**Get on your hands and knees," I said as I grabbed a packet of condoms and the lube, "I want to fuck you from behind," I ordered as he stared at me.**

**Without a word, he nodded, dropped to his hands and knees and turned around, doing exactly as I had ordered him to do.**

**Fuck.**

**His back moved up and down as he breathed in frantically and quickly, as he spread his legs a little further apart in anticipation of what was coming next.**

**Shit.**

**What in the name of fuck do I do now?**

…**..…ooOoo…**

Fear trickled down my spine as I stared at Riley's muscular backside, and as my eyes moved up his entire body that was quivering in anticipation in front of me, I swallowed loudly.

Looking down at the small packet in my hand, not to mention the bottle of lube that was clasped tightly in the other one, a shudder of nervousness ran up my body. I'd never put a condom on in my life—fuck I'd only seen and touched one for the first time that very afternoon—and my hands started to shake with nerves as the small, square packet made a strange crinkling sound as I tightened my terrified grip.

Clenching my jaw tightly, I stared at his beautiful body once again and shivered.

As I looked down at my granite hard, non-stop leaking prick, fear of failure hit my lower belly like icy water and, immediately, the pressure on my cock eased as it wilted a tiny amount.

Fuck.

An air of anticipation filled the room, and as I stared, frozen to the spot, a trickle of perspiration slithered along Riley's back.

He looked so fucking hot and I wanted to slam inside of him without a condom on, and scratch my desperately itching urge to fuck him hard and fast and cum, selfishly, without any consideration for him. But I didn't do that, and I wouldn't do that.

Shuddering in both nerves and arousal, I leaned forward and trailed my finger along the path of sweat and Riley whined as he felt my meagre touch.

"Fuck… Edward…" he groaned as he arched his back up into my fingers. "Touch me harder, Edward… please…"

He wanted me…

And I really did want him.

This is something that I really couldn't wait to fuck Riley, more than anything else that I've ever wanted—well—other than, perhaps, fucking Rosalie up against a wall and cumming inside her—and I refused resolutely to let failure even come into the fucking equation!

Shit.

"_What the fuck do I do now?"_ I asked myself as I looked down at Riley's perfect, muscular back and widely spread thighs.

As my eyes looked at his sinuous, hard, defined legs, they flexed tightly, and I could see his swinging balls from between his parted thighs. They swayed to and fro in time with his erratic breathing and a slight rocking motion, and this alone was enough to make my cock hard again.

Right.

What now?

Swallowing thickly, I coughed to clear my throat and ran my finger along the base of his spine, touching the top of his crack lightly before it trailed along to stroke both of the dimpled indentations of his sacrum.

I smiled as every muscle rippled in response to barest touch of my finger and all at once, I knew that I could do this.

"Now." I began, sounding surprisingly confident. "I want you to turn around and put the condom on me, Riley," I said, firmly, "And I want you to do it now." I said as I sat up straight on my wide spread knees. "Stroke my hard cock and think about what it is about to do to your arse," I finished as bravado coloured my voice, completely belying my building anxiety.

Riley gasped loudly and spun around so quickly that he almost broke his jaw on my erection as it bumped against his face, "Fucking hell, Edward!" he gasped out as he looked up at me, stunned.

He obviously had no idea of the real reason WHY I needed his help to sheath my cock in the thin rubber, he just thought that it was part of the foreplay. As his fingers slithered up and down my leaking, wet erection, my nerves dissipated as fast as they had appeared and I groaned loudly as arousal overtook fear.

"See how hard I am?" I asked, allowing the bravado to wash over me now, and starting to believe it myself as I tugged my cock, before holding it at the base and shoving it towards his face, "You do that to me…"

"Fuck… baby…" he murmured as he stroked my nipples gently. "You are so… so fucking beautiful… so fucking perfect… I won't share you, Edward… I won't. Only with Jace, and Doug if you insist, but not with anyone else…" he said. "I won't… I won't share you, my pretty boy…"

"Hurry up!" I gasped out as his words sunk in. "Hurry the fuck up! I want to fuck your arse, Riley! Quickly!"

"Mmmmm… such a pretty… fucking… massive… fucking… cock…" he muttered as he trailed a warm finger along my fluid filled slit, and brought it to his lips.

As I watched him suck his finger, covered in my pre-cum, between his lips and smile at me as he tasted me again. Watching his tongue slither along his bottom lip made my breathing increase even further, and my cock jerked and bounced off my belly as I groaned.

If he kept that shit up, I was going to spray my cum over his face before he'd even managed to put the condom on my cock.

Staring up at me, he cupped my balls with one hand and gripped my hip with the other. Licking his lips he smiled at me before he stroked both hands up and down my erection, making me shiver. "Let me suck your cock, baby," he murmured, looking up at me through his long, thick, black eyelashes, "Let me lick your cock and taste you again…"

Holy fuck.

"God yes…" I groaned out as I grabbed the sides of his head, and held tightly in place, "Suck me, Riley. Suck my cock… swallow it down…" I mumbled out as he grinned up at me before he poked his tongue out and lapped at my sticky arousal. Pulling back, he looked up at me again and we both groaned at the sight before us. His oral ministrations had caused a long, thin, silken thread of my pre-cum to hang from his bottom lip and swing deeply before it connected to the tip of my prick.

"Look at that!" I gasped out, shocked at the spider web-like silk that stretched between us deliciously. "How did you do that?"

Moaning, he opened up his mouth, ignored my question and moved forwards again. Without another word, he began licking up and around my deep aubergine, swollen, dripping head without having to be told what to do. I shivered as his hands moved in unison up and down my shaft, taking my head between his talented lips; and sucking gently, flicking my slit repeatedly with his tongue, before he swallowed me all the way down the back of his throat and grazed his teeth slightly around the base of my cock.

As he increased his suction, he moved his hands to cup my arse cheeks and stroked gently, pulling me closer.

I immediately started to rock and thrust against him, pushing myself in and out of his throat and the slurping, appreciative sounds coming out of his mouth were amazing. The first time he swallowed, causing his throat muscles to tighten around my shaft, I almost came and it took me superhuman mental strength not to grab his hair and to just fuck his throat.

But that's not what I was here for…

Pushing him away, I grinned at him and shook my head, as I shuffled away a little, forcing him to let go of me. "No, don't blow me. If you keep doing that, I'm going to cum down your throat again, and right now, I don't want to do that. I want to fuck you," I said firmly, before he sat back, and nodded, licking his lips and watched as I picked the condom up off the floor.

"I want that too, Edward. You don't know how fucking much I want that…" he whimpered out with a shaky voice, as he took the unopened condom out of my fingers and tore it open with his teeth.

If I hadn't stopped him, I really would have cum between his lips again, within a few minutes, so talented was his mouth.

Licking his lips he smiled at me as he looked carefully at the writing on the paper, before he ripped the condom wrapper open and he took his time as he took hold my cock with one hand and slowly, and gently, rolled it inch by inch, down my throbbing erection. "Extra large condoms, Edward?" he said, grinning and raising an eyebrow, "I'm really glad that you did your research, baby…" he muttered as he stroked me over the latex. "The last thing I would want is to have to stop because your cock is too big to fit inside an ordinary sized one," he smiled.

His fingers moved faster, and more firmly, as he began to stroke his own cock in time with mine. Leaning forwards, he opened his mouth to me and we kissed frantically as I tasted my own arousal on his tongue, and as he shimmied closer, I grabbed his cock and stroked my finger along his full slit, gently.

"Fuck me…" he muttered, "Please… if you don't, I'm either going to fuck you or suck you again, I can't wait any longer. You taste so good, Edward, I find it hard to control myself where you're concerned, to be honest," he whispered, staring at my twitching cock. "I've never seen a dick like yours before. I wish that I could lick it, suck, and fuck it all at the same time, baby," he whispered, as his long fingers continued to stroke it. "If you don't take over, I'm going to fuck you again…" he murmured as he held both our cocks in his hands, and rubbed them together firmly, allowing my pre-cum and the condom to act as lubricants, aiding their movement.

He wasn't small, he really wasn't—my aching arse was testament to that fact—he was quite a lot bigger than Douglas, but my cock looked huge in comparison.

Groaning, I started to thrust against him once more, as he continued, staring at me, "Jace said you are one hot fuck, and she doesn't say that lightly, I can promise you. Now I want you inside of me, and I can't wait to find out for myself just what it feels like to have you ride me," he said. "I want this big, thick, beautiful cock inside my arse. I want you to pound me hard and fast until you cum inside me. Do you understand me, boy?" he said. "Remember what I told you yesterday? Jacinta and I both like it rough, don't be fucking gentle with me!"

Shuddering at his words, I almost lost my shit and came immediately.

Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes in a desperate attempt to calm myself so that I actually got to do what I had come here for in the first place.

To fuck and in turn, be fucked.

Right.

"If you want this to carry on and not to finish within the next couple of minutes, I suggest that you stop fucking wanking me, Riley," I said firmly, and chuckling, he did as I asked.

"Turned on are we, boy?" he asked, with his eyes darkening, "Do you like the idea of that monster," he said, stroking the head of my cock again before he slid his finger over my covered, fluid filled slit, "Being buried inside my hot, tight hole do you, Edward?" he asked.

My heart began to pound even harder as his words sank in and I could feel my face burn painfully as my breathing hitched even higher. "Turn around for me, Riley," I told him quietly as I opened the bottle of lube with a soft popping click, and as he did so I let out a shuddering breath, at the sight of his once more spread cheeks. Placing one hand on his lower back briefly, I stroked gently, trailing my fingers along the soft, skin that covered his defined muscles. Inhaling deeply, I slowly began trickling the sticky lube, in a thick layer, down his crack, over my entire hand and over my latex covered cock.

It felt surprisingly cold through the condom and I shivered at the feeling, hissing as I squeezed my cock tightly. "Spread your cheeks for me. Spread them now!" I ordered sounding extremely manly for the first time in my life. "Open yourself up so that I can see what I'm doing, and let me fuck you with my fingers, Riley. Let me get you ready for me and my cock," I said, making him whimper out loud.

Leaning forwards so that the side of his face was resting on the cold, hard floor, he raised his arse higher off the ground and yanked his cheeks apart with both of his hands, just as I asked him to.

He looked so fucking good and I stared in disbelief at his pink, hairless arse hole as it pulsed slightly under my intense gaze. Unable to resist, I leaned forwards and licked over it lightly.

"Fucking do that again!" he grunted and without needing his encouragement, I lapped away at him repeatedly. "Shit… Edward…" he whined as I dug my fingers into his upper thighs firmly. "You need to stop, baby… you really need to stop that… I'm going to cum if you don't…"

"Okay…" I said, reluctantly sitting back. Staring at his body, I lubed up my fingers more, readying myself and tried to calm my quivering digits at the same time. Nerves and desire had cranked up to an almost unbearable level.

Sliding my slick fingers up and down his crease, he groaned as I increased the pressure before I slowly pressed one finger against his hole. I twisted it slowly and deliberately until I felt his muscles give, and pushed inside for the first time. I'd fucked Douglas with two fingers as I'd sucked his cock before, he didn't last very long when I did that to be honest, and it was much easier to penetrate him than it was Riley.

"Breathe out, Riley," I said, barely audibly. As I did so, my finger slid inside of his hot, tight muscular tunnel, and passed the tight rings with surprising ease now.

"You don't have any hair on your arse… just like Douglas…" I stated, childishly as I stroked my finger around his puckered opening, "Why don't you? I've got hair there!"

"I… get… Jace… or Douglas… to… wax… me…" he whimpered and panted out, as I pressed further inside of him, "And my balls…"

There was no resistance as I pressed all the way passed my second knuckle until I was flush to his cheeks, but then, Riley wasn't an anal virgin like I was—or rather—like I was until so very recently been. Pulling my invading digit out slowly, I repeated the action with two fingers, twisting them together firmly and curling them this way and that as I explored the inside of his body for the first time.

He was hot and tight and his muscles fluttered and clenched as I rotated my fingers, finding his prostate for the first time. He gasped and then groaned with every brush that they made over it.

His breathing hitched and began to rasp loudly as I increased my speed. This turned to a loud whine when I once more removed them and drizzled more lube onto my hand and digits. Twisting them together again, I added another and pushed my knotted fingers into his tight entrance, meaning that there were now three probing deeply inside his backside.

I kept them in place without moving to allow him to get used to the way that they were breaching his body for several long moments, as my other hand snaked down and stroked his balls.

Instantly, his back arched and his muscles clenched around my fingers as he let out a shaky breath. As he started to relax and as his panting settled a little bit, I leaned forwards and licked his upper back, removing the trickles of sweat that were running down it now. Sucking small pieces of flesh between my lips, he moaned, "More, baby… more…" he said.

After placing my free hand on the base of his spine, I sat back again and began moving my long fingers in and out, rotating them slowly and gently at first, opening them up and scissoring them inside of him. "So good…" I said, as I watched my moving hand, twisting and turning my digits, just the way that he had done to me.

At the memory of this, my anus muscles clenched, and I winced slightly at the dull, deep ache that I still felt from where he'd just penetrated for the first time and wondered, briefly, if it would hurt as much the second time.

Drizzling more lube around my invading fingers, I continued to stretch him far longer than he'd done to me, because, frankly, my cock was much larger than his and I was concerned that I would hurt him if he wasn't properly prepared beforehand.

Also, to be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what to do next, because I'd used so much lube that it began to trickle out of his hole with every inward thrust.

The way that he arched as I moved my hand looked amazing, and as my eyes fixed on where we were joined, I placed my hand firmer on his lower back and pushed and pulled him as I encouraged him to move along with me—fucking my fingers, as they fucked him.

"Holy fuck…" Riley groaned out as I moved my fingers harder and faster, twisting and rotating them quickly as I did so, "Holy—fucking—fucking—fuck—so—fucking—good…" he grumbled as I grunted in my frantic efforts and movements.

Sweat trickled down my chest as I continued to watch in abject fascination as my fingers disappeared inside his arse repeatedly and how his muscles relaxed and spasmed around my penetrating digits.

After many long moments, my body was flushed and sweating, as was Riley's, and my cock and balls throbbed painfully, seeking more.

"Are you ready?" I asked, sounding like the frightened school boy that, in fact, I still was. Swallowing loudly, as nerves, lust and fear coloured my tone and made my voice shake embarrasingly, "Are you ready for me to fuck you, Riley? Is this okay? Am I doing it right? Am I hurting you?" I asked again, as feelings of doubt began to wash over me, because I truly, truly didn't want to hurt him. I really didn't want to do that. I wanted it to be as good for him as I just fucking well knew that it was going to be for me.

"Yes… fuck… yes…" Riley panted, "I was… ready… for you… two… years ago…"

Fuck.

"Oh God…" I moaned out, hearing his words, before I removed my fingers from his backside.

His hole stayed open briefly, before it pulsed, and closed, as I stared at it longingly, "Are you sure?" I asked, quietly, and as he nodded, frantically, I grabbed my cock in one hand and stroked it a few times, before I used my thumb to penetrate him now, wiggling it inside of him, making him whine and whimper as I did so.

"Hurry… Edward… hurry!" he gasped out, "Fuck me… fuck me… now, boy!"

Inhaling sharply, I pulled my thumb out from inside of him. I dug my fingers into his waist, and still holding my erection in one hand, I held onto his hip with the other and pressed the head of my lubed, throbbing cock against his pink, tightly puckered opening.

He inhaled deeply through his nose and held it there for a few moments before he breathed out slowly, and I felt all of his muscles relax and give slightly beneath my invading cock and tightly gripping hands.

"Do it, Edward… push inside… do it now… fuck me…" he groaned as he nodded his head up and down. The movement made his arse move against me and we both moaned in unison at the new sensation.

Pressing forward a little more, I was surprised that it took a lot more effort to penetrate Riley than it had when I fucked Jacinta the night before and as the head of my erection pushed just inside his opening, we both gasped loudly.

The feeling of tightness was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. And I almost—almost—pulled out again because it felt like my poor dick was being given a Chinese burn and I shuddered with desire as well as a twinge of almost borderline pain.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Riley!" I gasped out as he squeezed his muscles and almost cut off the circulation to my cock.

The tight grasp, just below the head of my cock, was so intense that it was almost too much to bear, but I also knew, instinctively, that if I pulled out now, I would hurt both myself and Riley badly.

"Fuuuuuucccckkkk…" Riley hissed out as I moved a little further inside of him, quivering with strain as I somehow managed to stop my movements, despite the almost overwhelming, intense desire to just shove my cock inside him without taking my time, and consequences be damned.

"Are you okay?" I panted out from between gritted teeth. "Are you alright? Is this okay? Is it too much?"

Nodding so fast that he looked blurred, he said quietly, "Yes… it just burns. God… it really burns… You're so fucking big, Edward," he explained, shuddering and rocking against me. "I've never been fucked by anyone so big before," he finished with a shaking breath, "So fucking huge… so fucking big… massive… hurts…" he trailed off.

"Sorry…" I mumbled as I leaned forward, pressing us more firmly together and raining kisses along his back, "Sorry… I don't want… to hurt… you, Riley. Is it too much? Do you… want… to stop? Shall… I… stop?" I asked as my voice shook alarmingly.

"Don't be sorry… I want it… sorry… be… don't… oh… God… don't stop… " he said, "And don't you… don't… uh… don't you fucking… dare… stop… never… fuck… shit… me… fuck… me… " he garbled out, exhaling and forcing his anus to relax more. "So lucky… I'm so… lucky… you… you… having… you… I'm so… fucking… lucky…"

I watched him intently as he clenched the defined muscles in his buttocks and along his back as I held onto both of his hips now, and pressed more firmly against him, entering him slowly, steadily and smoothly, pushing forwards without stopping.

When I was sheathed halfway inside of him, I paused allowing my cock, let alone Riley's anus, to get used to the unbelievable pressure that this act meted out on my body.

"Don't… fucking… fucking… oh God…" Riley groaned, "Don't … fucking… stop… moving…"

Nodding, "I… I… won't…" I said, as I continued pressing further forward. I pushed and pulled, and pressed and retreated, rotating my desperately aching pelvis as I did so, until at long last—at long last—my body was finally flush with Riley's.

"Sooooo gooood…" I grumbled out loving the way that his arse fluttered and clenched around my cock as it got used to the intrusion.

"Fuck…" Riley whimpered as he arched his back and tightened his muscles.

"Shit…" I groaned. "Does… does… Douglas… feel so… so good when… he fucks… fucks… you, Riley?" I rasped out through my gritted grimace as I battled to keep still. "Huh? Does… he? Tell me that I feel… shit… tell me… that I feel better… tell me… tell me… tell me I'm better… than…fuck… Douglas!" I hissed out aggressively, digging the fingers of my right hand into his hip and reaching around him, squeezing his cock with my left hand, wanking him firmly, as I started to thrust.

"Holy… fuck…" Riley groaned.

"Answer… fuck… answer… me!" I snap out between desperate breaths as I began to thrust harder and faster, and building up to quite a rhythm, all things considered.

"Douglas… Doug…" Riley panted out as I continued to thrust slowly in and out of his hot, tight channel, "Douglas doesn't top me. Ever. Doug has never fucked my arse… Edward… ever… he always… fuck… always… oh… always bottoms…" Riley explained as he pushed himself up on his arms after placing his palms on the floor so that he is now on all fours.

I froze and instantly stopped moving at both his words and the new angle.

"You… fuck… are you… shit… are you telling… telling… me that you… fuck… you… don't bottom?" I asked, stunned, his statement bringing me a shuddering stop.

"No," he said, whimpering and thrusting back against me, trying to make me move inside of him once more, "I don't… fucking bottom… anymore. I'm… I'm… a… top…"

"Why not?" I asked, confused, holding onto him firmly.

"Because, Edward," he said, sounding irritated now, and wiggling his arse in desperation as he tries to fuck himself. "I… top. I… am a… top. I… don't… bottom. Ever. I top. Always. I… love fucking an… arse far… more than… having mine fucked… and I haven't bottomed… for… about fifteen… years, but I… want… to bottom… for you." he panted out.

"I… I don't understand…" I stammer.

"I've wanted you since… I first clapped eyes… on you, even when… it was really… fuck… Edward… move… baby… move… inappropriate to want… you… you. Now shut the… fuck up… stop acting… like a big fucking pussy, and… move those fucking… beautiful hips of yours and fucking… well… aaaah…" he groaned as I pressed against him a little bit. "FUCK… MY FUCKING… ARSE WITH… YOUR… MASSIVE FUCKING… COCK… BECAUSE… I FUCKING… WELL… NEED YOU… TO DO… IT… RIGHT FUCKING… NOW!" he yelled so loudly that his voice broke and sounded hoarse, jerking backwards against me and clenching his muscles tightly, making me yelp and shudder as electricity burst in spasms around my body.

"Huh… you… you… want… me to fuck… to fuck you, do… you? Do you, SIR?" I gasped out. "Do… you… really?"

"YES!" he bellowed. "YES I FUCKING WELL DO!" he yelled as he jerked backwards against my still body, making me jump slightly.

And that was it.

All restrained was removed, and I didn't need telling twice, and grabbing onto his hips with both hands, I dug my nails into his tight, sinuous flesh and began thrusting into him at a punishing speed. I clenched my teeth as his muscles squeezed my cock mercilessly, and I continued fucking him relentlessly, until the familiar tingle began to crawl out of my balls, down my legs and up my spine.

"Fucking hell, Riley!" I panted out, as he bucked and writhed under me, "What the fuck are… you… doing?"

"FUCK ME!" he ordered.

Gasping, I grabbed, pulled and tugged at his body, hanging onto his waist, hips, cock and thighs.

Every thrust made my legs, back, hips, calves, neck and balls burn. They throbbed and ached with my frantic efforts and it was totally different to the way if had felt when I'd fucked Jacinta the night before.

She was soft and pliant and entering and leaving her body was fluid and erotic as her walls sucked me in and let me go, milking my cock gently.

With Riley, it was the total antithesis of my time with Jacinta—the absolute polar opposite, in fact, there was nothing soft or gentle about the way that I touched him, or that he touched me in turn.

Pushing in and out of his arse was fucking hard work, and even hanging onto his body was far harder.

Whereas Jacinta's body was yielding under my fingers and body, Riley's was like attempting to hang onto a large piece of rock. Gripping his musculature was amazing, however, and every thrust that either of us made made it ripple under my touch.

My knees were agonised from the hard wooden flooring but there was no fucking way that I was going to stop now.

Although it was far more physical and much harder work than being with Jace, it was just as fucking amazing. And I didn't want it to end. As I leaned forwards and wrapped myself around his frantically moving, sweat drenched body, I whimpered in desperation as the need to cum was so overwhelming that tears filled my eyes with my efforts to hold back. I moved my left hand up to his pectoral muscles and I almost came on the spot when I felt how they flexed with his movements as we frantically jerked against one another's body.

"Edward…" he whined out, "OH… FUCK! Edward!"

The unbelievably fantastic feeling of my cock being squeezed and released with every push and pull almost made me cum immediately, but I needed to be unselfish and treat him with the decency that he had shown me and to make sure that he came first.

Changing my position slightly, spreading my knees and leaning back, I used one hand to grasp his hip, while keeping the other on his chest. I pulled my upper body back a little and thrust upwards, harder and faster into his body as I pulled him back with me.

As my body settled into this position, I kept pulling myself backwards, until I was fully upright, and Riley was sitting on top of my spread legs, with one of his thighs either side of mine, kneeling too. This meant that he was stretched open more and I could move more freely, thrusting quickly and deeply inside of his fluttering and clenching arse hole as I snapped my hips upwards inside of his willing body.

The feeling was breathtaking in the extreme and as I disappeared in and out of his hot body I whimpered and gasped out as my fingers hard grappled with his abdominal and pectoral muscles.

Riley rode me at the same time as I fucked him and I pushed his upper body forwards slightly so that I could see more, and as I watched my cock disappear and reappear from deep inside of his hard, muscular cheeks, I shuddered as I battled to control my movements and impending orgasm.

"That's it… that's it… that's it… that's it… that's … oh… that's… that's fucking it…" Riley whimpered out, "Just there… soooo fucking big… so fucking big … fuckinnngggg… fucking… amazing … fucking… do it… harder… harder… harder… fuck me… Edward! Fuck me harder… hitting the spot… hitting-it-every-fucking-time… harder… harder… harder… please… please… please… please… need… need… to… to… cum…" he panted in time to my thrusts and I dug my fingers into his hips so hard that they began to cramp with being held in one position for so long.

This act was almost brutal and punishing in its desperation and every nerve, tendon and muscle screamed as my legs threatened to cramp, and I scarcely took a breath as lactic acid built up painfully in my clenched thigh muscles.

"So fucking good…" I groaned out and he tightened his anal muscles in response to my words, making me shudder below him.

Leaning forward, I wrapped my hand tightly around his throat and pulled us flush together, before I stuck my tongue into his ear.

"Baby…" he whimpered, sounding strange as I squeezed more tightly, before I dropped my hand, trailing it downwards until I grabbed his straining cock and began to tug it upwards firmly, using his pre-cum to lubricate my fingers.

Riley pulled my hand away and began to jerk himself off before I placed my hand on top of his once again. His arm began to move at a frantic pace as he masturbated in time with my thrusts and hand movements, and our sweat slicked bodies slipped and slid against one another desperately.

"I've… wanted you… oh God… Riley… I've… Riley…" I gasped out as every thrust knocked the air out of my exhausted lungs. "Every bit… as long… as you… have… wanted… shit… have… wanted me!" I said.

Gasping out loud in shock, and without warning, "You mean… you mean that?" he gasped out.

Leaning forwards, I lapped my tongue up and along his sweaty neck. Riley screamed loudly as I sucked the back of his neck firmly before I sunk my teeth into the tight muscle, and his back arched against me, taking me with him, almost knocking us both backwards as he did so.

As his screams calmed into rasping and gasping shouts and pants, his cum splattered loudly onto the wooden floor. His anal muscles clamped down in a pulsing rhythmic motion repeatedly on my invading cock so tightly that they all but stopped the circulation and I hissed out, shocked at the pressure that was being exerted on my erection.

Grabbing onto his hips once more, I thrust up into his arse, snapping my hips hard and fast, and yelling loudly, I fell further backwards, as I came in pulsing spasms, inside Riley's still clenching, body. Rope after rope of cum left my shuddering body, as I continued emptying myself inside the rubber prison. Riley continued to milk my cock with the final vestiges of his orgasm and biting deeply into his scapula as I did so, making him screech out loudly as I marked him as mine once again.

Gasping and panting, trying to catch my breath, Riley fell forwards, wrenching my still attached body with his, and I leaned against his back in stunned euphoria, my eyes wide, beseeching, unseeing, as I stared straight ahead of me, paralysed. I turned my face to the side, and rested my sweaty head on his equally drenched body.

Fuck.

We lay there for God only knows how long as our desperate breathing settled slightly and our furnace like bodies cooled a little, despite being pressed together.

"Stay with… stay… with me… tonight, Edward," he asked quietly.

Fuck.

Without a word, I sat up a little on my knees and quickly pulled out of Riley's fluttering arse muscles, firmly holding onto the base of the condom, carefully, in the same way that he had done before.

He whimpered at the loss of my erection from his body, and I staggered to my feet, yanking the dirty and sticky condom off of my cock and after tying it, I threw it into the rubbish bin.

Carefully, I washed my hands, before, standing in front of him, I dressed and grabbed my possessions, ignoring him whilst I collected my thoughts, and dreading what state both Riley, and the floor, would be in after our frantic coupling.

At last, I plucked up the courage to look and was stunned at what I saw.

"Why isn't there a mess?" I gasped and panted out, exhausted as I turned to look at him, "Why isn't there a mess like there was all over your bedding when you fucked me, Riley?"

The only marks on the floor were from sweat, cum splatters and dribbles of saliva.

"Because…" Riley wheezed, "Because, Edward," he continued, breathing heavily, "I had an enema this afternoon so … shit… so that… it … would be okay for your first time…" he said.

"Oh," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"So… baby… now… now you know why… why… I want you to have one… before the … next time… I fuck … fuck… you…" he finished as he rolled onto his back, inhaling deeply.

Nodding, I stared at his slick, sweat covered, flushed body and softened cock. He looked beyond exhausted and I smiled as his brightly shining eyes met mine. "That was the best fuck I've ever had, Edward," he whispered as he rolled onto his stomach and grinned at me, still breathing heavily as he did so. "This is the best day of my life, sexually, baby," he said almost tenderly. "Stay with me, please? I want to sleep with you in my arms, please?"

Shit.

Not another fucking one who feels more than I do, surely?

Okay.

Time to go!

Wrenching the door open, I stood on the threshold and turned, still breathless, sweaty and red in the face and grinned at Riley who had turned onto his back again and was now prostrate on the floor, breathing hard.

"Not tonight, Riley," I said, quietly, "My fucking cock hurts and I want to have a shower and crash, and we both know that if I stayed, we would fuck again."

"I suppose…" Riley said, almost petulantly, "Next time?" he asked, hopefully.

"As long as it isn't a school night," I said, sounding like the adult compared to the sulking School Master laying on the floor staring at me.

"Okay," he said, sticking his bottom lip out further.

"Thank you for the most informative and enlightening extracurricular lesson, Mr Samuel," I said, grinning, "I think I need to be trained some more, though. You are an even better teacher than I thought you were." I say, laughing. "I need much, much, much more in fact. I guess that practice might just make me perfect at fucking and at being fucked, don't you think?" I said, brightly.

Riley whimpered but didn't move as his eyes widened and looking down, I shook my head as his cock twitched.

"Oh, and by the way, don't forget to change the sheets before Jace comes over for you to fuck later tonight, the bed looks fucking terrible and I bet it just doesn't smell too terrific either!" I said, laughing, "Same time next week? Or can we do it again on Monday, after lights out? Maybe Jacinta could join in with us too, and perhaps Douglas could watch me fucking you, but not be allowed to join in, on his next visit to Windsor?" I asked.

As I closed the door, I could hear him groaning loudly, and with a chuckle, I staggered back to my rooms.

The walk that would usually take no more than ten minutes, took me over half an hour as I struggled to stand upright, through exhaustion, as I trudged along the gravel paths in the darkness.

Night had fallen at some point in the evening's activities, and I had absolutely no idea how late it was, but I didn't give a fuck about anything but the home movie of sights, sounds, tastes and smells of our first time together as it ran through my head in perfect clarity.

Ignoring the advances of several of the most lascivious prefects en route who were smoking joints and hiding in some shrubbery doing God only knows what to one another, I dragged my weary arse up the two flights of highly polished, wooden stairs to my room, before showering thoroughly. The lure of my small sofa almost stopped me in my tracks, but I knew that if I sat down, I wouldn't get up again. So, stripping off on the way to my bathroom, and after flinging my dirty clothing into the laundry hamper, I had a quick, hot shower, and collapsed into bed, without even wrapping myself in a towel.

Sore but fucking sated.

My dreams were unbelievable and my cock was like a ram rod all night long, but I was too exhausted to touch it in any way, shape or form, and left it leaking and ignored, for the first time ever.

…**ooOoo….**

The morning after the fucking amazing night before, I woke up feeling drunk and aching more than I think I've ever hurt before.

Riley had—at sometime during the night, or early in the morning—popped a note under my door reminding me that discretion was needed at all times and that he hoped I was okay. He also said, again, that it had been the best night of his life and that I was to visit his rooms the next evening at 7:00 p.m., and that I was to take the long way to the teacher's block to avoid being seen.

He said that Jacinta would be joining us for a repeat performance so I should make sure that I up my intake of carbohydrates today and eat nothing but protein, vegetables and fruit the next day.

Fuck.

My cock had jerked upright so fast that it almost strained itself and as I rolled my neck, I cried out in pain at the way that every muscle, ligament and tendon screamed in anger at being moved.

Bone crunchingly hard and aggressive rugby matches and gruelling sculling races had left my strong, fit body feeling less hammered and beaten than my evening with Riley.

Three powerfully intense orgasms had left me hurting from head to toe, not to mention my unbelievably sore arsehole that hurt and ached badly. I couldn't resist touching it in the shower and had whimpered at how tender it still was, but not altogether in a bad way, to be honest. The second my finger had brushed against the rim, my cock rose even higher to the occasion, hoping that a total replay was in the offing.

Bastard.

And although, of course, I'd woken up with a massive erection, I once again left it alone and ignored it's constant bumping against my stomach because my poor cock felt like it had gone through a sodding mangle and needed a rest!

After showering, where I'd tentatively washed my swollen bum with a sponge soaked in hot water, salt and lavender oil, as I had been told to do, by Riley, to ease the swelling. I dressed in loose shorts and a baggy t-shirt because everything throbbed and ached, and I couldn't bear my skin to be touched, frankly.

Wandering downstairs, I sat in the dining hall and ate the biggest breakfast of my life—porridge, eggs, bacon, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, scrambled eggs, black pudding and fried bread, toast and jam—twice—not to mention the bowls of fruit salad and glasses of fruit juice. It got to the point that the serving staff had refused to let me have any more. I was starving! All those calories needing replenishing. So, sneaking an extra bread roll, I shoved four rashers of bacon inside of it, before I dashed up to my room, where I had quickly packed my phone, music player, wallet, and a few things to ease my aches and pains, into a small rucksack. Looking at my reflection, I'd decided against shaving, and after brushing my hair once more, I had taken a leisurely walk into town before I had jumped onto the train that would take me from Windsor to Paddington.

I could have cycled, and taken my bike with me, but to be honest, the walk loosened up my tight, sore body and gave me time to think about what had happened to me over the last thirty six hours and also, I don't think my arse could have handled sitting on the narrow seat.

Aware that I had experienced two very big, life changing sexual experiences, I found myself happier than I'd been for a very long time.

They could both teach me so much, hopefully without too many emotions being involved. If I had to pick which of the experiences that I had enjoyed most, I wouldn't be able to choose to be honest. Both had been so different but so exciting, that I wanted to do them both again, and as soon as possible.

The feeling when Riley pushed inside my body, penetrating me painfully for the first time, was utterly unbelievable. Yes, it was excruciating in the beginning, but as my muscles relaxed and desire continued building, the way that his cock hit that spot, deep inside of me, felt like I was being electrocuted. And as soon as it was over, I wanted it again.

It was brutal and purely physical, but mind blowing.

Pushing into Jace was like coming home, safe, warm, erotically arousing, and perfect in every way, even my wildest dreams couldn't come close to the feeling as her muscles sucked me in repeatedly. Fucking Riley had been the total polar opposite. Base, desperate and animalistic with every thrust, grunt and pump, and I felt a trickle of perspiration running down the back of my neck just at the memory of it.

Smiling to myself at the memory of Riley's stunned expression when I had told him what to do, I lounged back in the wide, first class seat of the train. I then pulled my baseball cap down over my eyes, turned my music up much too loud, and drowsed until I reached London, the exertion of the previous four days and the huge meal, taking their toll.

After getting off the train, I clambered onto the underground, the Bakerloo Line, put my sunglasses on and shifted uncomfortably about on the course, rough Draylon seat as I fiddled with my new mobile phone and sent Jasper a text to say that I was on my way.

Anal sex might be mind-blowing at the time, but it was fucking painful afterwards and I winced every time I moved. Added to that, my knees ached from kneeling on them for so long and my hips hurt from the level of force that I'd used to snap them backwards and forwards whilst I'd fucked Riley the night before.

The walk from the tube seemed to take an inordinately long time as I dragged my painful body towards their home, and on arriving I was stunned to see that everyone was as exhausted looking as me, when I arrived at the Whitlocks home.

A buffet brunch was laid out, and my stomach rumbled loudly—unbelievably—as I looked at the salads, cheeses, breads, cold meats and various types of fruit juices. The table was covered with a checked cloth, and everyone was told to just help themselves.

After we'd all grabbed our food—and I blushed when I caused Charlotte and Jasper to both raise their eyebrows at the amount that I'd piled onto my plate—my heart clenched a little bit when I heard what a success Jasper and his band's first proper gig had been.

Rosalie looked at me oddly as I sat down beside her on the floor, wincing as I did so, and I bit down on my lip when she stared at my neck and inhaled sharply. I'd forgotten about my love bites…

Curling her lip at me, she explained, curtly, that Charlotte and Garrett had recorded the gig from the previous night, on their brand new video camera, both for a keepsake and so that I didn't miss out, but by the look on her face, she didn't think that I was worthy of such an honour.

She was, right, of course...

After I'd shovelled the delicious lunch down my throat, much faster than I should have, I sat, or rather lay on my stomach, on the floor, resting my bruised arse, and enthusiastically watched my best friend's performance.

He was amazing.

Watching the way that he lost himself in his music, as he danced and jerked around the stage, I was stunned. The level of confidence was awe-inspiring and I felt prouder of his achievements than I ever did of anything that I did, and I sat, grinning like a clown for the entire duration of the film.

And I'd felt both sad, and guilty, that I hadn't been there for him, and told him so, repeatedly. On top of that, I felt really bad that they'd been upset for me that school commitments had meant that I couldn't attend. Charlotte even asked if I wanted her to telephone the school and complain on my behalf.

I declined her kind offer.

Obviously.

Sigh.

After we'd eaten a pudding of fresh fruit, meringue and ice-cream, and helped Charlotte and Esme clear up, we all filtered off to our own chosen spaces.

Rosalie, of course, immediately stripped down to a miniscule scrap of a denim bikini. It was almost obscenely revealing, and I remember wondering at the time, exactly how Peter and Esme didn't find her attire highly unsuitable for a family gathering. She stared at me and grinned as she put her hands in her bikini top and readjusted her large, firm breasts before she put a towel on the grass and sprawled out on her stomach.

Sitting in his tree house, I had the most perfect view of Rose's, ripe peach, of an arse and I sat, gazing at it as we smoked a joint together and he told me about the mind-blowingly hot blow job he had got backstage, before his set, the night before, with his parents mere feet away. I couldn't take my eyes off of Rose as she yanked her bikini bottoms into the crack of her backside, exposing her entire arse to my eyes even when he told me all about his encounter.

It never crossed my mind at the time to ask whether it was with a boy or a girl.

Looking at the livid and very obvious love bites on my neck, Jasper had grinned and dragged me to the centre of the large space insisting that I take my top off to show him properly and he was stunned at the mess I was in.

He wouldn't shut up about me losing my virginity—who it was with—what it was like—blah de blah de blah—until I gave him details of having my cherry, very obviously, popped the night before.

He strutted about the room, cock of the hoop, proudly announcing that he could tell when someone had lost their virginity at twenty paces.

Sigh.

Jasper and cannabis are not happy bedfellows…

He was right, of course about losing my virginity. What he didn't know, however, was that I'd had BOTH cherries popped in the space of twenty four hours, but I, understandably, kept that fact to myself and only told him about Jacinta, and although he was deeply excited for me, I still felt like the shit that I was lying to him on so many levels.

Jasper, being Jasper, meant that he wasn't the slightest bit put out or angry with me for putting the needs of my selfish fucking cock ahead of his friendship and after coercing me into admitting that I'd had sex for the first time, he seemed much happier and rolled another splif.

When I told him that she was the Chaplain's daughter, he almost choked himself to death laughing. He was even more shocked that I'd fucked her bareback and that she'd let me cum inside of her. And, as the marijuana worked its magic, we relaxed, lying on the small balcony, still watching Rosalie and trying to hide the erections inside of our shorts.

She knew we were watching her, and was now topless, lying propped up on her elbows, performing a very impressive display of oral sex on a bright red, rocket shaped ice lolly, pushing it all the way down her throat. As she stared up at me, locking eyes, she licked her pouty lips before she twirled her tongue around the tip of it and smiling, she pushed it back in her mouth again.

The sound of loud, raucous laughter coming from the patio area of the house made us all giggle and roll our eyes as Emmett's joined us in the tree house, as all three of us now watched Rose who was now lying flat out, with her legs bent, ankles crossed and waving in the air.

The six adults—Esme, Peter, Charlotte, Garrett and Emmett's parents—were getting rapidly pissed on the large jugs of Pimm's that Esme had placed on the table just as we had finished cleaning up. They were much too busy to pay any attention to us, and as Rosalie stood up, still topless, she stroked her fingers over her nipples before she climbed the ladder to join us.

Fuck.

Completely unfazed by the three pairs of eyes fixed on her hard nubs, she sat, cross legged, in the smallest pair of bikini bottoms ever seen, almost revealing her pussy to us, and rolled a third joint. I declined sharing it with her, as did Jasper, we'd had quite enough as it was, but Emmett, on the other hand, hurled himself onto the floor and sat pressed against her, sharing her proferred splif, staring at her and hanging on her every word like a love sick puppy dog.

After drinking several cans of warm, cheap cider, I had to fight to keep my eyes open as the alcohol and drugs took their toll on my already knackered system, so, reluctantly, I gathered my possessions together and got up to leave after saying goodbye to a now-sleepy Jazz and an obviously horny Emm.

As I headed across the lawn to speak to Charlotte and Garrett, thanking them for their hospitality and apologising once more, Rosalie padded beside me, doing up her bikini top as she did so.

"Right, knob," she said, "Spill."

"What do you mean?" I asked, scowling at her.

"Where the fuck were you last night? Jasper was really fucking cut up that you let him down at the last fucking minute! He was almost fucking well crying when you rang him, you prick! I won't forget what you did. I really won't! You're a piece of shit, Edward, do you fucking know that?"

"I had school commitments!" I protested, as the colour rose in my face. "Jasper understood! It's got fuck all to do with you, Rose!" I say, sounding affronted and hoping that she would just let it go.

"School commitments my fucking left tit, Edward!" she said, loudly, "I can see the fucking state your neck is in! You were with a skanky girl! You let your best fucking friend down for a stupid fucking fuck!" she said angrily, and I blushed in response. "Well, at least you have the decency to look embarrassed, I guess that's something…" she muttered prodding my shoulder firmly as she did so.

Looking at her, my heart sank because I knew that with Rose, I wasn't going to get away with my lies, "Sorry… I'm really sorry…" I whispered, blinking.

"So, Edward Cullen. I'm guessing you aren't a virgin any longer? I hope it was worth it and that you wrapped properly, sweetie!" she continued, laughing this time. "Who is she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I huffed, folding my arms and yanking away from her grabbing fingers as I turned my face away from her once more.

"Yes you do! You're freshly fucked! Look at the state of your sodding neck! You dirty little fucker, Cullen. What a shame," she said as she pulled me to a stop and I turned to look at her, frowning as she thrust her ample tits up towards me, temptingly.

"Why is it a shame?" I scowled, trying to look at her face once more.

"Well…" she said as she leaned close to me, "I always thought that I would be your first fuck, baby boy," she sniggered as she pressed her tits against my chest, leaning forwards and kissed me on my closed mouth, making me gasp in shock. She'd NEVER done that before. "I thought that I'd be the one to ride that fucking giant that you don't manage to hide in your shorts very well. Oh well… at least I won't have to teach you EVERYTHING now, will I?" she giggled.

"WHAT?" I gasped out as I stared at her, so stunned that I dropped my bag at the same time as my mouth popped open in disbelief.

"You heard correctly. Now, bye, bye, Eddie boy, run back to school like a good little baby!" she laughed as she spun and ran back across the grass, waving her arms around as she did so. "See you soon! Hope you can keep the snake in your trousers under control on the train journey home!"

I stood, agog, with my cock ramrod hard again, leaking all over my shorts as my eyes feasted on her bottom that moved below her bikini. Running my fingers through my hair, I was so turned on that I had to fight the urge to run after her and wank just looking at her, and you would never have thought that I'd fucked, and been fucked, repeatedly for the previous two days.

Shit.

That girl had me by the bollocks, back then, and she fucking well knew it, the little bitch.

From the loud groan coming from inside the tree house, she had either taken her top off again and jiggled her tits around, or was doing something to Emmett. Frowning, I turned on my heel, and said my goodbyes and thank you's to the adults, barely noticing what I was saying or what their responses were.

I do remember the way they all thanked me for taking the time to come from Windsor to spend the whole of my Sunday with them, despite my heavy school commitments. A strange nauseious feeling in the pit of my stomach, added to my sense of guilt, made my anxiety crank up exponentially, and I swore that I would never put myself through such torture again.

They were, and always will be, the closest thing to a family that I've ever had and I would NEVER let them down again.

Ever.

And so, even though, from then on I sadly went to the Whitlock's less and less as my school workload—and of course—my fuck-load—increased massively—and Jasper's rehearsal time impinged on our time as well—but I ALWAYS attended Jasper's performances thereafter, not missing another one for a very, very long time.

The journey back to Windsor was a more sombre, uncomfortable trip than the one into London, and I sat with my face hidden by my cap, as I thought about the ramifications of my cavalier actions regarding the emotions and feelings of others who obviously cared deeply for me.

However much I didn't want to hurt the Whitlocks, and Jasper especially, I also knew, deep down, that I was a heartless fucker, just like the rest of the Cullen men had been, and nothing would, or could, make me change.

…**ooOoo…**

So, this extreme lifestyle became the pattern of my life for the next two years.

My time in Windsor and my life in London were carefully compartmentalised and neither crossed over.

Ever.

Riley and Jace were as insatiable as I was and almost immediately, we became inseparable, spending every spare moment together, and frequently, all three of us would sleep together in Riley's bed, with Jace and I sneaking out before daybreak.

…**..ooOoo….**

We did indeed fuck again in Riley's rooms on the Monday night, and this time Jacinta watched us.

Arriving, once again, at 7:00 p.m., I was surprised that the door was unlocked and when I knocked, it opened on its own. The whimpers coming from inside the room were clue enough to what was happening, but when I entered the living room and Riley was lying on the sofa with Jace sitting on his face, head thrown back, riding his mouth enthusiastically, I almost came where I stood.

Standing stock still, I didn't move a muscle, not knowing whether I should stay or leave, until Riley raised his hand and beckoned me over.

Closing the door, quietly, I walked slowly across the room and stood inches from them watching as Jace held her pussy lips apart, exposing her little dark pink clit for all to see. Riley's tongue was buried deeply inside of her and his nose was bumping against her nub as she bounced up and down enthusiastically.

Her large breasts moved up and down with her movements and as I watched, her hands moved upwards until she began rolling and tugging at her own nipples, making her groan even more loudly.

That in itself was almost as arousing as when Riley rimmed my arse slowly and languidly before he fucked me again.

"Kiss… me, Edward…" she moaned out and my eyes snapped to Jacinta's, I gasped out loud, stunned that she was even aware that I was in the room. "Kiss… me…"

Dropping the ubiquitous bag of books that would indicate to anyone passing that I was visiting his private rooms for out of hours lessons—I was, of course—just not the kind of extra curricular lessons that Eton College usually offers—I walked closer to her and stroked her hair.

"Get… naked…" she panted as I bent down to kiss her hair, before she grabbed the sides of my head in both of her hands and yanked me forwards before she slammed her mouth onto mine as she started to ride his face harder.

Riley groaned and leaned his hand out until it was resting on my short-covered left arse cheek and began to stroke me gently.

Fuck.

Jace sucked on my tongue enthusiastically as she rode his face ever faster. She was flushed and sweating, and when he moved his hand away from me and did something to her bottom, she yelped and whined like a kicked dog before her head yanked away from mine and arched her back. Holding herself still, she squealed and shuddered all over, cumming violently on top of Riley, as her eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth drooped open.

Looking down, I could see that his entire face was wet—and I mean _soaking _wet. In fact, I took a step backwards at first because it looked as if she'd peed all over him.

"What the fuck?" I gasped out and as Riley roughly pushed her up and off of his face, he shoved his fingers inside of her and fucked her hard and fast at the same time as she began to quickly strum her clit, and as they did so, I unzipped my shorts and let them drop to the floor.

The rasping and wheezing pants, not to mention the slippery, wet sounds, coming from them both almost finished me off and without realising what I'd done, I'd started to palm my cock and was now openly wanking off next to them. When Jacinta gasped and then squealed, as she jerked her pelvis forwards, I looked downwards just as an arc of cum shot out of her, spraying Riley's face and the arm of the couch. He greedily drank as much of the liquid as he could, groaning appreciatively as he did so, and she jerked and spasmed above him, looking like she was having convulsions or some sort of fit.

That was all it took.

I'd never seen anything so fucking hot and I came in hot splatters all over her side, causing them both to turn and stare at me, surprised.

If Riley hadn't explained what squirting was to me, I might have thought that she'd just pissed all over him and I certainly wouldn't have found that a turn on, but seeing her lose control and let go was fucking amazing.

Clambering off him, on dangerously wobbly legs, she dropped down onto her hands and knees and crawled across the room towards a large, brightly coloured blanket that had been placed in the corner.

She had a massive silver plug in her arse that glinted in the dimmed lamp light of the living room and it showed as she moved slowly, and deliberately, swaying her ample hips, still breathing heavily. I guess Riley was playing with the plug just before Jace came… lucky bitch.

The insides of her thighs were soaking wet and I had to fight the urge to run over to her and lick her clean because it looked so fucking hot.

"Oh fuuuuckkk…" I groaned out and wrapped my fingers around my instantly twitching, still sensitive, cock, once more.

"Yes…" Riley murmured, and as I turned to look at him, he was frantically wanking off watching me touch myself. "I want to fuck you…" he said.

Without another word, he stood up and stared at me, as, smiling, I slithered to my knees, and without needing to be told, I opened my lips and immediately swallowed as much of his erection into my mouth as possible, tasting both his pre-cum and Jacinta's cum as I did so. Groaning loudly, I held onto his arse cheek with one hand and wanked my own cock in time with the movements of my mouth.

Warm, soft, damp arms wrapped around me from behind, and without knowing it, Jacinta had crawled behind me to watch my movements. "Breathe out through your nose, Edward…" she murmured as she licked and sucked the sides of my neck, "He likes to be all the way down your throat when he cums, remember?"

Grunting in response to her, I did as she said, and, after relaxing my throat muscles, I swallowed him all the way down. I let go of my own cock as I began to gently tug his balls in time to the clenching rhythm of my throat just as Jacinta started to stroke her fingers up and down the crack of my arse.

As I groaned and jerked forwards, she giggled, "Oh, Riley," she said, "Our boy does love to have his bum played with. Do you want me to prepare him for you?"

Riley hissed out, as did I, and I instantly began moving my mouth more quickly over his large, swollen cock. Just as his fingers started to pull and yank at my hair, painfully, cool, wet fingers began to slide around my anus, before the very tip of one penetrated me.

"JSSSSSUSSSS FCCKCKCING CRISHT!" I gasped out, with difficulty due to the fact that my mouth was full of cock, and as I did so, Riley shot his load, filling my mouth. Not being prepared for this, it went straight up the back of my nose and I coughed, spluttered and choked, gasping as I fought to get my breath.

"Never lose focus, Edward. Not when you're fucking, or being fucked, baby," she said, brightly as she handed me a bundle of kitchen paper and a bottle of coke.

Nodding, I wiped the tissue over my tear streaked cheeks and blew my nose before I gulped down the bottle of fizzy, sweet drink.

Riley was still prone on the floor as Jace crawled over to him once more, giggling. "Now, Riley," she said, "My arse is all ready for you to fuck, but I'm guessing you want to use the pretty boy instead of me tonight, yes?"

He lay there panting and grinned at her, "Yes, baby," he said, breathing heavily, "I do. Are you okay with that?"

"God yes!" she said, "But only if I get to suck both of you off to get you ready, beforehand?"

Riley laughed and held his arms out to us both. All three of us lay, wrapped around one another, on the hard wooden floor, touching, stroking, grabbing and kissing one another until I grabbed hold of Jacinta and fingered her frantically, until she came, spasming around my long digits.

Shit.

I didn't make her squirt…

Fuck it all.

"Sorry…" I said as she lay, spent and exhausted, across Riley's chest, breathing heavily.

"What… what… for?" she asked, scowling at me in confusion.

"I didn't make you squirt, like Riley did…" I mutter, biting my lip in disappointment.

"I came didn't I?" she asked, laughing, "For fuck's sake, Edward! Most women would kill to cum like that! Squirting doesn't happen very often and only after a lot of foreplay for me. Riley had been eating me out for almost an hour when you arrived. It takes a long time!"

Oh.

"Can we practice?" I asked, eagerly, "Will you teach me how to make you squirt? I'm here to learn you know!"

"Yes," Riley said, pushing Jace off of him and rolled over until I was flat on my back on the floor and he was laying on top of me, between my spread thighs. "Yes, boy," he continued as he sucked my jaw, "You're here to learn…" before he clamped his mouth on mine, kissing me passionately for the first time that evening.

Responding immediately, I hooked my legs around his hips and rock my pelvis against his once more, rock hard erection. Pulling back, I stared at him and ground my cock against his, "Fuck me…" I murmured, "You know you want to…" I grinned before I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth.

"Help me, Jace," Riley said as he sat up on his knees and held his hand out to the side.

She handed him a condom, and whilst he started to roll it down onto his cock, she coated her fingers with lube before she started to suck my straining, leaking cock, deeply into her throat.

"Holy fuck!" I yelped out as she swallowed around me at the same time that she pushed a sticky finger up my arse and started to rotate it.

"Fucking hell…" Riley grumbled out from somewhere beside us, "That looks so fucking hot…" he continued as he lubed up his hand and his cock and started to stroke himself with hard, rhythmic pumps.

"Stop… Jace… stop…" I panted out as the two fingers that were now penetrating my arse started to thrust hard and fast, "You'll make me cum… stop…" I whined as she pushed a third digit inside of me and started to rub and brush against my prostate.

Too late.

Yelling, I arched up into her mouth, and, feeling her retching and gagging around me was the final straw and I came in long ropes of hot, salty jizz, all the way down her very accommodating throat.

Fuck.

Pulling back, she smiled at me and licked her lips.

"She's got a remarkable mouth, hasn't she, Edward?" Riley asked, standing next to us as he continued to to stroke himself firmly.

Dropping down to his knees, he sat down properly on the floor, leaning against the coach and he smiled gently at me. "Sit on my cock, baby," he murmured. "Let me fuck you like this," he said.

Shit.

Nodding, as my heart started to pound much faster, I pulled myself upright and straddled his thighs as my once erect cock flopped about between us like a loose, spare limb.

"Will it hurt again?" I asked, once more sounding like the child that I still was as his fingers stroked the hyper sensitive head of my cock.

"Yes." Riley said honestly, "But not for long, and the fact that you've just cum twice will mean you are more relaxed now. Don't worry…" he cooed as his fingers left my cock and stroked up my body. Reaching up with puckered lips, I took the hint and bent down and pressed our mouths together. Riley licked along my bottom lip and groaned. "I promise to make it as good for you as it was on Saturday, baby, you have no fucking idea how much I want you, boy… all the time… I dream about you…" he murmured as he now held onto his cock with one hand, and cupped onto my balls with his other one. "Help him, Jace," he said, and as I lowered myself on his erection, Jace guided him to my opening, before she pulled my cheeks apart a small amount and poured a liberal squeeze of anal lube down my crack.

"Fuuuuck…" I whimpered, as the cold liquid trickled over my arse hole. "Oh God…"

Riley stroked my instantly hardening cock gently and as I exhaled, he pushed passed the tight right of muscles quickly before I even had time to realise what he was doing.

"OUCH!" I yelped as he held himself still and my muscles clenched in release as they tried to force him out of my body. "OW! Riley! That fucking hurts!"

"Shh, baby… sssshhhh…" he said, as Jace knelt at the side of me and started to kiss me. As I opened my mouth to pant through the pain, she sucked my tongue firmly and relaxing into the deliciously arousing sensations, I didn't even notice at first the Riley was now buried all the way inside of me once again.

"Fuck!" I gasped out as Riley grabbed my hips and wriggled a little below me. It hurt, I won't lie, but the fact that I was sitting on him meant that gravity had pulled me down and opened me up more.

Despite the pain, it felt amazing, and when he started to thrust up into me, I groaned loudly as I fell forwards and clamped my mouth onto his.

However good the other night had been, nothing could compare with the way his cock rubbed deeply inside of me, took my breath away. As the intensity of the feeling grew, I pulled back from him, placed my hands firmly on his shoulders, and used this as propulsion to fuck him harder.

"Shit… Edward…" he groaned as I tightened my anal muscles, gripping him deliciously tightly. "So fucking good… so fucking tight…"

His hand came down between us and started to jerk me off hard and fast.

A noise to the side of us made me lose concentration, and looking to my left, I gasped, at the same that Riley groaned loudly, as we watched Jacinta. She was frantically fucking herself with a huge, electric blue vibrator, with the plug still in place, whilst she barked instructions at us both.

Christ only knows how she could handle those two massive things at the same time, and from where I was sitting, straddling Riley, I could see how stretched both her openings were and even I winced. But, as I soon found out, she could handle far bigger things being rammed inside her, when both of us fucked her for the first time. She came so many times that Riley began to worry that she was going to pass out from loss of body fluids. I fucked her pussy that time because Riley worried that she wouldn't be able to cope, but the next time around, we swapped positions and all I can say is, she handled it VERY well…

"Faster, Edward! Faster, Riley!" she demanded. "Riley!" she yelped, "Fuck him harder! Dig your fingers into his arse cheeks! Do it!" she panted and gasped, "I want to watch you make him cum! Fucking do it!"

Christ she was such a bossy bitch, even at the very beginning.

Riley grabbed the base of his cock and pulled out of me, making me whine loudly, "On your back, baby, I want to fuck you really hard… I want to fuck you… slam into you… feel your tight muscles as they milk my cock…" he virtually growled, and I almost sprained a ball trying to get off of him quickly before I threw myself backwards onto the hard, cold wooden floor.

Yanking hold of my legs, he wrapped one around his waist, and held the other one out to the side, before he thrust his cock inside of me in one hard, fast thrust. When Riley pushed his thick cock all the way inside my arse again, it hurt like _fuck _the second time around—far more so than it had on the previous Friday, to be honest. I was still sore and more than slightly swollen from the first session—but as he slid his thick cock into me again, I was already stretched and lubed and so aroused that I didn't care whether it fucking hurt or not.

"Hard, Riley." I said through clenched teeth as I dug my fingers into his wrists, "FUCK ME HARD AND DO IT NOW! I need to fucking cum…"

Doing as I had demanded, I winced and clenched as my arse was breached painfully hard, but after several minutes, this passed again and once more, pure unadulterated fucking lust and desire took over.

In fact the initial pain made my hypersensitive nervous system fire more nerve synapses around my hormone raddled body and everything felt even more intense than ever, and when he told me to touch myself, my cock felt more tender and aroused than I'd ever known it feel before.

Jacinta was beside herself as she masturbated whilst watching us, and as she came, thrashing and writhing on the rug, well… that particular sight was almost as hot as the feeling of the thick ridge around the head of his cock as it bumped against my prostate and I came so hard—spraying all over Riley's chin and chest—that it took me a good ten minutes to recover and to be able to focus properly once more.

The clenching of my muscles set Riley's orgasm off and I gasped, and held onto him tightly as I rode the final vestiges of my release as he yelled and roared through his.

Riley recovered quite quickly, but he had begun to wonder if I had detached a retina when I'd orgasmed so hard, and was on the point of taking me to the nearest hospital when my vision, luckily, returned to normal, once again.

From then on, it was an unwritten rule that I stopped messing around with the other boys and girls, and that I pretty much belonged to Jacinta and Riley, with a side order of Douglas thrown in.

Not that I minded their level of possessiveness. Like being part of the Whitlock family, I felt that I belonged somewhere, and I now had two very different family groups that I was a part of.

It wasn't always easy, or even particularly pleasurable, to be spread around so thinly, time wise, and I often felt like I was living in the Twilight Zone. I now had _three _parallel lives; school, fucking and Jasper; and it became increasingly difficult to fit everything in as my voracious appetite for all things carnal took over from everything else.

…**.ooOoo…..**

Unusually, I chose not to spend the entire summer with the Whitlocks, though I did go to the South of France with them for three long, hot, wonderful weeks, in a villa close to Nice. We had non-stop and unbridled freedom and it was truly lovely. The beaches were like finely powdered white sugar and the aquamarine sea was warm and wild. Although we had a pool where we were staying, we rarely ventured into it, preferring to languish in the Mediterranean instead.

Many girls made their interest in my cock more than a little bit obvious, but having promised Jace and Riley that all I would do was wank whilst I was in France, I managed to stick to the agreement, more of a test of my own mental and physical strength than anything else.

The villa was large, modern, open plan and airy. Everything was a varying shade of white and there were entire walls made from glass. All the furniture was pale and oversized. It was a very glamorous space, and I took lots of photographs of us all at play. A large, beautifully kept garden, complete with shrubs of shocking red geraniums, filled the borders along the edge of the long, deep, ultramarine coloured swimming pool.

Rose only spent a week with us because she was going to a cottage in Cornwall with her boyfriend and his family for two weeks—yes, despite her non-stop teasing, she had a boyfriend—but the week that she was with us, was fucking torturous and tested my resolve on every bloody level. I took lots of photgraphs of her and put these to good use at a later date…

Her behaviour seemed to be more extreme than ever, and still her parents and aunt didn't seem to notice. From her wandering around in just a thong whenever we were alone, without any of the adults, to her sitting, naked, on the verandah shaving her legs, ensuring that her pussy was completely exposed to the three of us, to hearing the sounds of her masturbating late at night.

My hand fucked my cock so much during those seven days, that I'm just fucking sure I had callouses and at times, her flirting was so unbearable for all three of us that we had to go out on our mopeds, driving much too fast along the sandy, dusty, coastal roads, just to escape her and her incessantly cruel tormenting.

Sitting outside, late at night, listening to the pants, whines and groans that emitted from her open bedroom French windows as she came, loudly, Emmett, Jazz and I wanked frantically with the help of some of her discarded suntan lotion. Watching the darkness of her room, beyond the billowing muslin of her curtains, knowing that she was naked, writhing on her large bed, within reach was overwhelming. As soon as her noises had ceased, that was it, and all three of us splattered our jizz over the tiled pool edge within minutes of one another. She loved the fucking control and power that she had over us and was very obviously watching, because we got a naked, standing ovation for our trouble, and as we all turned around, she cupped her tits, jiggling them at us, and laughed, before she went back to bed.

Sigh.

She really was a bitch.

But a fucking hot, sexy one.

…**.ooOoo…..**

After returning to England, I went straight back to Windsor, bypassing the Muswell Hillbilly and went straight back into the waiting orifices of my school master and his lover. I was like an animal, and fucked them both so hard and so often that they both begged me to stop because they couldn't handle anymore.

God but I'd missed their bodies.

I then spent a week in Southern Ireland in a cottage with Riley, Jace and Douglas and, put it this way, every fucking day and night is still a blur to me. We only left the small house a couple of times to buy food, and once or twice to have a fuck on the wild, wind-swept, pebble beach, or the unbelievably fucking cold Irish Sea. I lost half a stone in weight that week due to excessive physical activity and was so sore that I had to stand for most of the flight home!

I took lots of pictures there as well. The dour greys, greens and greeny-blues of the Irish coast took my breath away. Added to the varying tones of brown and yellows, these were in sharp contrast to the light, bright, sunny shades of turquoise, ultramarine and aquamarine blues, as well as the lemon, lime and warm golden hues of southern France. But I truly loved it there, more than my other vacation destination in all honesty, and even imagined myself sitting by a roaring log fire in the middle of winter, wearing a chunky cable sweater, drinking beer and basically doing nothing.

Relaxation? This was a totally alien concept to me, I was always busy, always.

The stark, hopeless, bleakness of the wild coast appealed to my slightly morose nature. I didn't realise, of course, that I wasn't of a particularly sunny disposition until one day when Jacinta asked me why I never smiled. I couldn't answer her.

Despite it being the height of summer, the sky was barely a weak, washed out pale blue, and white billowy clouds were permeated with grey foreboding ones that skidded across the windy horizon as if chased by something truly terrifying.

The sharp, acrid, salty tang of the sea air was something that I would never forget and I found it far more alive and vibrant that the warm, fragrant, lavender, thyme and rosemary scented winds in France, although they too were wonderful.

Our white washed, thick stone walled fisherman's cottage was so isolated that we saw no one anywhere near our little domain for the the entire week.

The fucking was better than ever and at one point, when Riley and I were both fucking Jacinta on the rug in the living room, Douglas unbelievably pushed his cock in her mouth and thrilled her for triple penetrating her at the same time. It didn't last long, he couldn't handle the fact that she was female and pushed his cock in my mouth instead. She was furious!

Riley cooked for us all whilst we were there, and insisted that we helped. This was a novelty to me and I was both excited and slightly bewildered at the prospect of cleaning. When I was a small child, we had a housekeeper who prepared our food for us and when she wasn't around, my nanny did. At Eton, all meals were cooked on site, and someone came in and cleaned my rooms, although, I have always kept everything neat and tidy, with a bit of an OCD predilection even down to the point where I colour code my CD's. Of course, when I visited Jasper's house, my room was cleaned for me and my laundry was done as if by magic, and Charlotte either cooked, or when there were big 'do's' at their house, they had the event professionaly catered. I'd never so much as boiled an egg before this trip to lovely Ireland, other than opening a can of tuna fish for the old bag's cat's or cooking beans on toast—that always stuck to the bottom of the pan and made my aunt hopping mad—or adding hot water to a pot noodle! And of course, when we were in Nice, we ate out all the time or food was delivered to us. In Ireland, we did everything from washing dishes to hoovering the floors to cleaning the toilets. Shocking as it sounds, I had never done any of this stuff and had to be taught how to do everything, even how to put powder into the washing machine and to then turn it on.

The first time I had to chop up an onion, I almost took the end of my finger off because I couldn't fucking see for the tears streaming down my face, and even my nose ran, making me look like some snot-nosed kid.

Riley and Jace pissed themselves laughing as I stood there, clutching my bleeding index finger with my other hand, dripping blood all over the wooden floor, whilst Douglas ran around like a headless chicken trying to find the first aid box.

From then on, I was absolutely determined to be as good in the kitchen as Riley was, in the same way that I was when it came to fucking, as my competitive nature took over. Within a few days, I was chopping vegetables and meat at a blurringly fast pace, and the fact that I'd learned so fast, and so well, earned me an amazing blowjob from Jace!

Riley taught me everything there was to know about cooking, from how to bone a chicken, to how to fillet a fish, and I found that not only did my competitive spirit rise to the challenge, but that I really enjoyed the peace that washed over my mind when I was creating new tastes and flavours.

When we returned to Windsor, he allowed me to practice my new talent in his kitchen and then the three of us would have supper together, after we'd fucked, to replenish our expended energy.

I also discovered that wandering around, bollock naked for the whole seven days, apart from our short forays into town—even when we were cooking—was freeing and wonderful, and to be able to touch, and be touched, wherever and whenever we chose, was amazing.

I didn't want it to end.

The photographs that I took of Jace, sitting, naked, on a large rock, with her shocking red hair blowing wildly about her face whilst the foamy spray flew around her, and with the grey water and leaden skies forming a dark backdrop, were my favourites. I loved the ones of Riley's fingers when he was working in the kitchen, along with the ones of him getting a very impressive blow job, in the same spot, of course, from either Jace or Douglas.

Yes… it was safe to say, that that was a wonderful summer…

Photography had become a new passion and obsession for me. Riley wanted me to photograph them when they were fucking and I loved doing it. Immediately, I had looked into weekend courses, and then set off for the lawyers' office in the City of London and badgered them into giving me some money from my inheritance to buy equipment.

Ever since Jasper had told me that one day all of this money was going to be mine, I had listened carefully to his tutelage and had insisted that I was provided with everything I required, and as far as the solicitors needed to know, I required a camera and half a dozen good quality lenses for a school project. Subject closed. As ever, I got my own way, and was soon heading back to Windsor, ladened down with the very latest, and very best, that Nikon had to offer. The assistant took a shine to me, and I got a big discount when I took her phone number, with no intention of contacting her, and she ensured that the bill of sale gave the full price, so for once, I had a wad of money to spare. Riley was delighted that I took my task of cataloguing our times together so seriously. He was even more thrilled with the video camera that I had also coerced and relished the theatrics of making our own personal porn films.

Having had a taste of having a little more cash than usual, I now took what I wanted from my trust fund—if I needed something—I just demanded that I have it. I didn't go down the Rosalie path of trying to flatter and cajole, those tactics were never for me, I just gave them no choice. I was told, on more than one occasion, that I had certainly chosen the correct career path in life.

Riley had his own dark room, thank fuck, because in all honesty, those pictures were so fucking graphic that we would be arrested if we tried to have them developed in a lab!

The pictures, and the video films that I had begun to make, were beautiful, erotic and fucking hot, and I preferred to develop them in black and white, rather than in colour. They were elegant and far more sophisticated than the porn that you could buy in the grubby little shops of Soho with basements full of depravity, and the four of us watched them together all the time. The three of them adored being filmed and photographed, but, no matter how much they tried to persuade, blackmail and convince me to change my mind, I still wouldn't let them photograph me.

Ever.

In the October, I went for a week in New York with the school's photography club—the executor's of the will didn't even argue when I told them I needed money for a school trip—and visited my first lap dancing club, with the teaching staff in tow, when I was there. So, not only was it educational, photography wise, it also enhanced my sexual training, so it was a win win situation all around!

However much Riley and Jacinta talked about feelings and emotions and that I was a valuable addition to the group and how much they cared for me, I never responded in kind. I baulked at any mention of that kind of bollocks, because all I wanted was to become an aficionado in the boudoir, and stuff everything else. When we weren't physically fucking, I was studying different positions and types of sexual activity in both books and online, but I was, thankfully, still a diligent student, both academically and sports-wise. To be fair, that wasn't saying much because I'd always found academia easy.

It was emotions that I struggled with and this was something that I seemed to find harder the older I got.

Very soon, I had a sexual repertoire that any man, twice or three times my age, would struggle to keep up with.

Jacinta loved to fuck my arse with her fingers or a dildo whilst she deep-throated me. My obsession with all things anal was becoming overwhelming, and I loved to be fucked and to fuck, in the arse more and more.

There was always an initial stab of stretching pain as my muscles were forced to open and accept a foreign protrusion of some kind, but that quickly gave way to extreme, and overwhelming pleasure, and I craved it as much as I craved fucking Jacinta's pussy to be honest.

She was an enthusiastic participant in my anal obsession, and loved to fuck me with a dildo—sometimes even a strap-on one. That was a revelation to me, I can tell you, I didn't even know that such things existed until she appeared wearing one, and my eyes almost popped out of my head when she did so! She fucked me so hard and fast that she not only brought tears to my eyes, but I also thought that she'd made me bleed with the force of her thrusts. She also loved to finger me whilst Riley blew me, and the three of us were as insatiable as each other.

Riley said that she had very strong Dominatrix tendencies, and I must have looked as confused as I felt because they then had to explain what that meant to me, and the second they did, I could imagine her stomping about wearing rubber or leather and once again, my dick had shot up so fast, that I gasped in surprise.

My oral skills became something that I was very proud of—they both took a very long time teaching me every nuance and twirl—and she loved it when I would go down on her, drape her thighs over my shoulders and just go for it. I loved it. I really did, I loved to spend hours driving her insane with my tongue, lips, nose and fingers as I languidly licked and sucked her, repeatedly to orgasm without stopping, egged on, and often helped, by Riley. Sometimes, I held her just on the edge of cumming for an hour, or even longer, before I then fucked her with my fingers, or a vibrator, and made her squirt as she screamed and convulsed through her release.

I was thrilled that I could do that to her. I would have liked to have tried it out on some other girls to see if I could do it to them as well, but of course I'd agreed to remain with just the three of them and I enjoyed them too much to risk them ending our encounters.

Every moment of the time that we spent together was amazing and we fucked in every position possible, at least four times a week. My school work didn't suffer, I made sure of that, my future was something much too important for me to jeopardise even for these two. We did, however, fuck in classrooms, storerooms, the gym, the pool house (again), the greenhouses, the large hall and of course, the chapel.

Douglas struggled with the concept that Riley actively wanted me to fuck him when he had never been allowed so do anything to his arse other than use his tongue or fingers in it, and he sulked for weeks in jealousy over that. He ignored text messages and phone calls for a while, but he soon got over his temper tantrums, he needed to be with me too much to carry it on for long.

Threesomes were amazing, and I loved every possible permeation, but my favourite was when she rode my cock at the same time that Riley sat on my shoulders and fucked my mouth—I never tired of that—ever.

Double penetration was tricky and a real skill—especially with a cock my size—but it was one—that of course, I managed to master quite quickly and easily, much to both of their delights. The feeling of Riley's cock as it pressed against mine, squeezing me tightly through the thin membrane of skin, was mind blowing and I fucking loved it. We often managed to cum within a minute of two of one another, but we always—always—ensured that Jace orgasmed at least once before we came.

The only thing that pissed Jace off was that we couldn't fill all three of her holes at once because there was no way that Douglas would touch her, let alone penetrate her, so we would use either a vibe or a ball gag just to keep her happy.

There were a few things that I wasn't prepared to try and that included anything to do with urine or crap—no fucking way—but also anything to do with blood. Riley would enthusiastically go down on Jacinta when she had her period, he loved eating her out and couldn't get enough, but I drew the line at that. Even I frowned—and my cock would soften—when he would lift his head up, and grin at me, whilst he was covered, from nose to chin, with dark red blood and would hungrily lick it off his face.

Shudder.

I did, however, have no problem fucking her, whilst wearing the ubiquitous condom of course, when she was menstruating, that didn't bother me in the slightest.

Her imagination knew no bounds, and so when Jacinta's parents went away, for either pleasure, or on official Church of England Synod business, the three of us would spend the entire weekend in their super king sized bed, fucking, eating, watching television and even playing silly games.

She was a bit odd even then—with absolutely no limits—and loved to tie me to a chair in one of the side rooms in the chapel—the vestry—with the Chaplain's cassock belt, before she beat me on the arse and thighs with a thick, creamy alter candle, a candlestick, walking cane or ruler, whilst Riley blew me. She would pour molten wax from the aforementioned candles all over my chest, belly and balls, to the point that I would scream the place down in euphoric agony.

The skills that they both taught me had stayed with me and I was an expert in every type of sexual activity that you could imagine—and my limits had very few bounds.

Sometimes it would be just Riley and me, other times it would be me and Jacinta. Very occasionally, it was just Douglas and I. And of course, most of the time it was all three, or four, of us.

Riley and I still saw Douglas, or rather, I spent time with him and I now fucked him and he fucking fucked me, and believe it or not, sometimes we all fucked each other.

All four of us.

One of the most incredible times we had was when Riley fucked Jacinta in her arse, I fucked him in his arse and Doug fucked my arse.

Riley had wanted to film it but I'd refused, my future career could be jeopardised if something like that had come to light somewhere down the line.

That was some bloody daisy chain… and I came so hard that I had thought that I had seen the northern lights the way the entire spectrum of colours exploded in front of my eyes and I was sure that I must have detached both of my retinas in the process this time!

Riley and Jacinta could both handle my huge cock in their arses relatively easily—in fact, it was both of their holes of choice—but poor Douglas struggled with it in his backside, and it really was almost unbearable for me to fuck him, he clenched so tightly. We got around this by Riley fucking him and me sucking him off whilst I stared up at him. He usually came embarrassingly quickly when I locked eyes with him.

I knew how he felt about me… he also knew that I didn't feel the same.

Our times together were always unbelievable and one of my favourite things to do as a group was when we would all lie on the floor, in a circle, sucking one another off until we couldn't stand anymore and would jerk ourselves off, Doug included, and splatter Jace with our cum.

She loved that.

We would take turns in licking it off of her, and Doug even indulged in that particular activity as long as he could stay near her stomach, or shoulders, and didn't have to go near either her tits or her pussy.

We started to spend time away from Windsor together, and after one long, three day weekend break in a holiday cottage in the wilds of Cornwall, we fucked so much and for so long, that my cock and arse were raw for a week—just like it had when I came back from Ireland.

Happy days.

As the months rolled passed, they continued to teach me things and I was a voracious learner and Riley spent hours perusing the computer finding new positions and experiences for us to try.

I loved it when I sat on top of Riley as his cock was buried deeply inside of my arse and I frantically masturbated until I came, spraying up his chest and across his face. This was always the way that I liked for him to fuck me most.

Riley taught me everything there was to know about sexual hygiene and etiquette, from how to shave and wax my balls and arsehole—something I fucking hated having done, but Riley insisted so I went with it—to how to make sure that anal sex wasn't as messy as it had been the first time that he had fucked me—using both diet and enemas—to how to make a girl _always _cum first, how to take my time and look genuinely interested in her—even if I wasn't, to be honest—and, of course, my favourites, how to massage a g-spot and bring her to orgasm every single time, and how to make her squirt…

And, as ordered, I always bought, and used condoms.

It wasn't the same as bareback, of course, and after the first time, I knew what I was missing, but I also knew only too well that they had both been terribly promiscuous and I wanted to stay safe.

Riding with the hat on was a bit like having Novocaine in your mouth after a visit to the dentist and had a similar feeling of when your numb mouth has just begun to thaw out – you can 'feel' everything, but with an almost delayed reaction and with a greatly reduced sensitivity.

But I did as I was told because I also knew of the dire consequences of not being careful – especially when one of Riley's friends was diagnosed with HIV not long before he started fucking me.

Douglas was in Oxford, fucking God only knows who during the week, in between our sessions, and Riley and Jacinta were an official 'item' so they had been tested and never used a condom together.

I was pretty much an unknown entity in the group and we all needed to stay safe.

My life was one long round of work, sex and sleep.

Riley, Jacinta, and Douglas, pretty much taught me everything that there was to know about sex. I was better at oral and anal sex than either of the other two men and loved it when Jace sat on my face. My tongue seemed to know instinctively what to do when she did so, and she would cum so hard and fast that she had almost drowned me on more than one occasion.

One of my favourite things was to watch her fuck herself with a rubber cock, chosen from her massive collection of vibrators and dildo's, and we spent hours researching the latest gadgets and gizmos to use on one-another.

Jacinta taught me how to fuck a woman in every hole and every position known to man—or woman—kind, and how to always make her cum.

I knew every little oddity that makes up a clitoris, from its hood to the fact that it stretched much more than people realised inside the vagina, and how to find both a g-spot and a prostate.

One of the most important things that they both taught me, though, was how to control, and hold back, my climax. I struggled with this at first, everything was so exciting and overwhelming, and I know, looking back, that I was like an excitable Labrador puppy when a cock or pussy were anywhere near me. Jace was a fantastic coach and liked to use implements to teach me how to hold back my impending orgasm—this was usually done with the help of a hard, smarting smack across the bollocks, or arse cheeks, with her favourite thirty centimetre plastic ruler.

Let me tell you, as your balls pull up in preparation for orgasm, the last frigging thing you want is to have them walloped and my semen shot back up my vas deferens so fast, and went into hiding for a good thirty minutes that I soon fucking learned restraint!

She taught me how to manicure my nails, so that there was never a sharp or jagged bit to inflict any kind of pain or damage the fragile and delicate flesh inside of any orifice. I felt a bit odd filing my fingers but after she bit her thumbnail and scraped it across my foreskin, I did it willingly and without argument. They also taught me how, with the use of simple things like an ice cube, strong tea with added sugar, or even a little bit of toothpaste, that oral sex could feel, and be, mind-blowingly different, every time you went down on one another.

She used to beg me to fuck her with my fingers, and I would willingly finger her to orgasm so many times that my hand would cramp. She said my long, slender digits could hit spots that she didn't know existed before she had met me. I suppose the fact that I played both piano and guitar meant that they were both strong and supple and that I could curl them and twist them in peculiar ways.

She would screech like a banshee, trying to crawl away from me as I pressed her g-spot so hard that she couldn't handle the feeling. We cranked this up when Riley would sit on her chest, fucking her mouth, immobilising her, until, eventually, she would squirt and squirt and squirt until there was nothing left inside of her to squirt anymore!

Although they refused to share me with anyone else, they loved to set me bizarre—and frankly quite dangerous—challenges, and on one occasion, I had to seduce and fuck the tits of the school nurse!

Shrugging, nonchalantly, I headed off to the medical room and told Nurse Sturridge that I had a headache and asked if she could help me with easing it. I wasn't allowed to penetrate her—and she couldn't suck me off—they wouldn't allow that—they classed me as theirs—but what she did do to me, was mind blowing, just the same. She was a good looking woman, with a shapely body and was in her early fifties. Her hair was shoulder length and tied back with a band, and she was married to the head gardener with a small cottage in the grounds of the school. After sitting down in the medical room with her for a little while, we chatted about a few things, and when her eyes dropped to my tented shorts, she immediately told me to lie on the bed with my head in her lap, whilst she stroked my hair gently. And would you believe, that within ten minutes of being alone with her, her blouse and bra were in a pile on the floor and I was sucking happily away on her left nipple. Mere moments later, I threw her down on the bed, and my cock was firmly wedged in her ample, soft, undulating cleavage, as she moaned and groaned loudly. I closed my eyes and dropped my head backwards, smiling to myself while I was happily thrusting away, as she stroked my balls.

She frantically yanked her skirt upwards, and fingered herself as I straddled her body, and when I came all over her face and neck, she came loudly too. She seemed to enjoy me cumming on her as much as I did, and she groaned loudly as she scraped her fingers over her mouth before she licked them clean.

After cleaning myself up, I got dressed at the same time as she did, and as I left, she gave me a lollipop and a silver sticker, and told me to pop in and see her the next time I needed to let off steam or when either of my heads were sore…

Now and then, when Riley and Jace were busy, and Doug was back in Oxford, I did just that, without their knowledge, of course. If I had an itch to scratch, I needed someone to help me out, and it had been their idea in the first place, so they couldn't really complain, now could they?

One of the other challenges that they set me, was a bit more, 'out there'—I had to wank slowly, in broad daylight, whilst sticking a finger up my own arse, in front of one of the, ostensibly, straight gardeners whilst pretending not to know that he was watching me.

Hiding behind a large Rhododendron bush in the early autumn sunshine, I had spread my naked thighs, covered my hands with lube and had slowly stroked my erect cock up and down… up and down… up and down… whilst I pushed my index finger inside of my backside from behind. Thank God for long fingers!

I knew that he was watching, I heard him gasp and drop his rake as I started to thrust faster and faster into my hand, and as I shot my cum in a large arch upwards, splattering into the flowery bush, covering the shiny green leaves with my creamy jizz, he groaned as he wanked right along with me.

Tidying myself up, I walked briskly back to my rooms, ignoring him completely, pretending that I hadn't even known that he was there. Sadly, he didn't take the hint, and he fucking well followed me everywhere, like a bad smell, for many months after that…

…**..ooOoo…..**

I loved our times together and my obsession with them all took over completely. Jasper would frequently ask me to return to London for the weekend, but I rarely did now, perhaps ever six weeks or so, and so we started to drift apart a little bit.

Sadly.

Things became tricky between my Eton 'family' when after a while, when Jace, Doug and Riley all told me, separately, and then together, that they'd fallen love with me.

Ugh.

Why in the name of fuck, did the fucking 'L' word always have to raise its sodding ugly head and spoil things?

Huh?

We were having an amazing time together, being friends that fucked and learned from one another, why did they have to do this and shatter our safe little bubble of perverted safety?

Why couldn't things just remain the same?

Why couldn't fucking just stay as _fucking_?

I didn't want emotion!

I wanted orgasms, pure and simple!

It was difficult to explain to them all that I, of course, cared for them, in my own way, but I most definitely didn't love them. I didn't love anyone, other than the Whitlock's and I wasn't even sure that the way I felt about them was love. I didn't have anything to measure it up against, so how the fuck would I know? I did feel a fondness and a closeness to them, and that, in a peculiar way, I had a sort of family at Eton College when we became a fucking unit.

But this, I knew, was purely because we spent all our spare time together, and were intimate in every conceivable way. Looking back, I wonder now why none of the other Master's became suspicious about what was going on between the three of us. We weren't exactly quiet, or discreet, in our activities, even fucking regularly out of doors in the daylight, in both the school grounds and by the Thames in nearby Windsor.

However, once Riley and Jacinta's declarations of love had crystallised in my young mind, things changed. I knew how Douglas felt already so this hadn't come as much of a surprise to me. The fact that he yelled, 'Edward, baby, I love you' every time he came in me, or on me, was an indicator of this fact. But with the other two, it was different. I didn't want them to love me! I didn't want ANYONE to love me. The reason for this is simple. And the reason is that it would be forever in the forefront of my psyche that love meant sorrow and sadness. Nothing else. To me, love meant that when people love you, they inflict pain of some description on you, whether intentional, or not.

And then they leave you.

They ALWAYS leave you.

The pain issue was always evident too, for example, when Jacinta said that she loved me, she would bite me until I bled or beat my balls and cock with anything that came to hand. And then, when Riley said that he loved me, he would dig his fingers into some part of my body, usually bruising my pale skin, and of course, he would then fuck my arse raw as he did so.

See my point?

The knowledge that love equates pain, is something that has remained with me still.

My mother had loved me, and wanted me so desperately and so much, that she had refused drugs or intervention in my delivery, until it was much, much too late, and she died in the process.

She left me because she loved me.

My father left because he was a selfish, greedy, inconsiderate fucker, who got what he deserved, simple as.

I didn't love him and he most certainly didn't want, or love, me.

Love equates being hurt in some way, shape or form—either physically or mentally.

Jacinta was a sadistic shrew at times, and once, when she beat my balls at the point of orgasm, it had hurt so fucking much that I had puked all over Riley. She had done this to me on more than one occasion, much to their hilarity.

Sigh.

They continued to attempt to coerce me into having feelings for them, but after the first year or so, a couple of months after their declarations, the interest and excitement of it all started to wear thin for me. I loved the sex, of course, and always came, but I was forever seeking more. After I'd performed one act half a dozen times or so, I tired of it and wanted—and needed—much, much, more. I wanted to FUCK. Not to MAKE LOVE. And the fact that they continued to tell me how much they loved me had tarnished the fun side of things for me. My desire for new and different experiences, feelings and situations had me trawling the internet looking for adventurous things to try.

This was about the time that we all started to behave differently towards one another. They were suddenly more 'touchy feely' with each other, more tender, gentle, careful and spent more time alone, without me…

One night after we'd had a long, protracted session between the four of us, and Douglas and Jacinta had passed out, curled up together in the large bed, Riley sat stroking my fingers absently and told me that he was in love with Jacinta and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

Shocked into stunned silence, I sat and listened, with my mouth agape, as he explained that despite needing to fuck men, he felt for Jace things that he'd never thought it possible to feel for anyone.

The stinging slap of rejection and disappointment hit me harder than ever before, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing as he waxed lyrical about how marvellous and fucking amazing love felt when it was real.

He said that he hoped it would happen to me one day, and pulling away from him angrily, I told him that that wasn't ever going to happen and that frankly, I didn't fucking well want it to either.

He then said that I wasn't to knock it until I tried it and that he felt things for Jacinta that he hadn't thought possible before.

Shit.

Something twisted in my gut—not jealousy—you understand—but I couldn't fathom out how he could feel this for her when he'd told me that he was in love with me! I still don't get it to be honest. And also, I couldn't comprehend why it was something that he could want, let alone contemplate spending his life with one person, because I neither wanted, or needed, this. I really didn't want to be , or to love in return, and I was rocked to my very core at his words.

Why did he need this?

Why?

Why couldn't we just carry on fucking each other forever?

Why did it have to change?

"But you're more gay than straight…" I said quietly, pathetically and somewhat childishly, as I stared at him. "You cum harder and faster with me than you do with her," I continued, looking at Jace's naked body and curled my lip, and as he nodded, he grabbed me firmly and pulled me onto his knee, hugging me tightly in his arms.

"Yes. Yes I am," he agreed, "Fucking you is the most amazing feeling that I've ever had, and when you fuck me, baby, I feel like I'm flying. You are truly the best I've ever had… you are a natural at all kinds of fucking…" he continued, distracted as he kissed my open mouth gently. "But, it isn't enough for me anymore. I am in love with you, Edward, but you don't want me in that way, and I love her too. I truly, truly love her. She is the other half of me, and I need to be with her always. We are so alike that it's scary sometimes and I can't risk losing her by not committing to her. If that's what it takes to keep her, then that's what I will do." he said as he stroked along my jaw.

Pathetic tears of pain filled my eyes, and I looked away quickly, unwilling to let him see how much this had hurt me.

"I still want to fuck you, Edward. All the time. I have to do that, I want you all the fucking time. Jesus, I want your body more than hers—and she knows that too, but I _NEED_ to be with her. Does that make sense to you?" he asked, scowling.

No.

No it fucking well didn't, I had no sodding idea what the hell he was going on about, but I nodded, lying, and smiled at him, telling him how happy I was for them both. And so, we carried on as before, only with them being far more kissy-kissy than ever.

The sex was still mind blowing, and when Riley fucked my arse in the woods whilst I was strung between two trees, while, at the same time, Douglas sucked my cock, it was amazing. Then, when Jace trailed a stick over my rigid body, occasionally thwacking me with it, I was so overwhelmed that when Riley told Douglas to stop blowing me and to wank me off instead, my cum shot ten feet from my body.

I know it did, because Jace measured it!

That was one of the last big occasions we had between us, and I started to pull away, as did Douglas, who had started a new relationship with a fellow student at Oxford. And it didn't really come as much of a surprise, when, just before I took my final exams at Eton, Jacinta moved to a small village in southern Ireland with Riley, after he had resigned—rather quickly—from the school.

One of the parents had complained that he had behaved inappropriately towards their son, coercing him into a sexual act, and he left before he was forced to do so, or indeed, was prosecuted.

Resignation as to how important I really had ever been to them, hit me hard, because it would seem that they were lining up my replacement for when I'd left school, and they hadn't seen fit to tell me.

Great.

They asked me to go with them to Ireland, but I declined, knowing that they didn't really mean it, and in all honesty, I'd outgrown them many months before, and had started spending one weekend a month with Jasper again.

Jace told me just before they left that Riley was conflicted in the way that he felt for us both, because he genuinely did love me, but I had my own plans for my future life and it didn't include living in a hamlet in the wilds of nowhere.

I promised to visit them and play often, but I think we all knew it wouldn't happen regularly.

We hadn't been spending as much time together in truth over the previous six months, because now they were so loved-up and intent on me feeling the same for them, it just didn't feel the same anymore and I was determined to get my relationship with Jasper and the Whitlocks back on track as well as ensuring that I did as well in my exams as I possibly could.

Riley and Jacinta had always fucked bareback, and when they left for Ireland, she was four months pregnant with his child.

Her parents were utterly appalled at her burgeoning belly, because they weren't yet married and were secretly very happy when they said that they were leaving England.

Riley finished teaching on the Friday evening, and they fled to Ireland on the midnight ferry. They had decided to set up a Sexual Therapy Centre, combined with genital origami—don't ask—and I had no doubt that they would be in great demand and highly successful in their chosen careers! They intended to offer sexual training to both men and women, so Riley would still get to fuck boys, and Jacinta would get to fuck whoever she chose to, so it would be a win-win situation for them both.

They suggested that I should start looking into getting involved in the BDSM world in some way, because of my need for new things and the fact that I got off harder than ever when I bit, or was bitten, and that I loved to be hit quite hard with rulers and sticks.

Shrugging, I'd pretended to be disinterested and nonchalant at their suggestion, but almost immediately, I'd started to look various things up online and in books. At first it was quite a half-hearted adventure, but some of the things piqued my interest and I carried on looking, even visiting specialist shops. The seediness of some of it, put me off, to be honest, some of the women looked like men in drag as they stomped about in the high boots and rubber dresses. But there was also beauty in some of the activities and themes and I got more interested in attending a club or party to see if it was something that was for me.

Digging more deeply into the world of Dominants and submissives led me to see things that excited me greatly and via one of these websites, I met an inexperienced, and very sweet girl called Alice Wilson.

She was tiny, nice and unbelievably pretty, and was completely innocent. She was a virgin, believe it or not, and insisted that she thought that she was a submissive who had yet to find a Master or Mistress to train with and that's why she had always rebuffed the attentions of the opposite sex.

We were friends, that's all.

She was my first proper friend without strings.

We kissed occasionally and although it was nice, it wasn't particularly hot, and we never fucked or even groped one another, but I really loved her company.

We started hanging out together a lot, going to the cinema, pubs, nightclubs and gigs, and she even got quite friendly with Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett. She loved 99 Chimpanzees immediately, and I had thought, and hoped, to be honest, at one point, that she would date Jasper, but he seemed to have even less time for me than I used to have for him. And despite all my endeavours, we were growing further and further apart—sadly managing to all catch up less than once every six to eight weeks.

I hated that we weren't as close to one another as we once had been and it made me all the more sad because I no longer had my family in Eton.

I hated feeling lonely…

But at least I now had Alice. Funnily enough, after watching the way that Alice responded to Rosalie's appearance the first time that she had seen her—wearing little more than two handkerchiefs tied around her tits and the smallest pair of denim shorts in the world—at one of Jasper's gigs—I told her that I thought she should be looking for a Mistress… and she didn't disagree.

As the months went on, I had dalliances with quite a few girls that I picked up in clubs and pubs, and even a couple during and after Jasper's gigs, now that I wasn't tied down to Jace and Riley's constraints—fucking them excitedly in cupboards and cloakrooms. Sadly, though, however good it was, it wasn't the same as it had been with Jacinta and Riley.

We all knew one another's bodies, needs and likes so well that it came as a shock when these girls were fumbling, stumbling and even a little intimidated by my level of forceful sexual confidence.

One girl accused me of damaging her bladder when I made her squirt! She wouldn't believe that it was normal for girls to ejaculate, and she called me a pervert before she went home to her boyfriend.

Ugh.

As time went by, I was well aware that I was attracting more and more attention from both sexes, but although I still enjoyed sex with men, it had become more apparent to me that I enjoyed the feeling of touching and fucking a woman far more. Their soft, gentle curves and the way that their bodies engulfed me with a warm, nurturing, pulsating suction rather than the hard physicality of a man's body, enthralled me. Even anal sex with a woman was softer and less aggressive and I loved touching and tasting their skin—to me, the smell and delicious taste of a girl was totally intoxicating.

Don't get me wrong, fucking a man was still something that I indulged in from time to time, because it was out of this world—hard, physical, strenuous, brutal, raw, base—but I loved sex with Jacinta—and other girls—in a very different way.

I was a mere week away from turning eighteen and had already got a large chunk of my inheritance which had enabled me to buy a flat of my own until I turned twenty-one and the house in Highgate became mine. For the previous month, after leaving Eton, I had been back living with the old hag of Muswell Hill, sadly. The Whitlock's were out of town on a trip to visit family in Australia for six weeks, so I had nowhere else to go.

The room was more dilapidated than ever and smelt dankly of damp and cat piss, even though Tipsy and Dotty were no longer alive. That made me very sad, I felt something for them, and I missed them. As an act of rebellion, I began wanking more than ever and didn't even bother to wipe my spunk up, instead spraying it happily on the walls, rug and furniture and leaving it there.

That would serve the old cow right.

She hated having me there, but after six years of receiving a thousand pounds a month for my 'care and board' she couldn't really say no when I hadn't spent more than six months with her in all of that time. She wasn't happy either because my trust fund meant that she wouldn't be getting any more cash from this particular golden egg for much longer.

Although we weren't seeing much of one another, I did know that Jasper wasn't going to university or even college. He'd decided to make a go of his musical career and had, excitingly, just signed a record deal with a small, independent label and was incredibly busy writing, rehearsing and performing, so was rarely around anymore. If he was in London, he was busy planning for future tours, or spending time with his band mates and even occasionally, with his family.

One drunken night after a 99 Chimpanzees gig, I'd been busy fucking one of his groupies hard and fast, from behind, in a cupboard, in the club where they were performing. He caught us, and stood and watched until we had both cum, and the girl would have happily let us both do her at once, but sadly, Jasper had declined, saying it wasn't for him.

Shrugging, I'd then let her friend give me a blow job, again in front of Jasper, before I went back home with Jasper in his new—dark English Racing Green—Mini Cooper, that Charlotte and Garrett had bought him for his eighteenth birthday, to allow him to travel around the country more easily.

We decided to sleep in the tree house as a hark back to freer and more innocent times, when our days didn't revolve around sex, booze and soft drugs.

Emmett, Rose, Jasper and I drank cheap beer and smoked several very strong spliffs as we sprawled out on the wooden floor. We'd yelled and giggled like a bunch of silly, prepubescent girls so loudly that we had woken Charlotte up twice.

Garrett didn't stir.

Jasper kept telling them both about my sexual prowess and the size that my cock now was, and I felt a bit awkward as he said I should take it out and have a wank, showing them how far I could make my jizz fly.

As you can imagine, this rather dampened the atmosphere and killed the party spirit, and after Rose and Emmett had left, with muttered goodbyes, and it was just the two of us, Jasper had grabbed my face and kissed me passionately. I was so stunned as he trailed his fingers down my torso and stroked them along my crotch, squeezing my cock firmly, that I didn't move at first, I just stayed there and let him grope me.

I responded, of course, I'm a man—and somewhat of a sexually deviant kind of a man at that, you understand—but although our tongues stroked and rubbed against one another's repeatedly, and I grabbed the back of his head, holding him close, my cock, unbelievably, stayed soft. As I pulled back and stared at him, we both curled our lips and scowled, frowning deeply, before bursting out laughing in unison.

"Fucking hell, Edward!" he sniggered, loudly, "That was like kissing the fucking brother that I don't even fucking have! Ugh! Ewwww! And there was I thinking that it would be really fucking hot to suck your massive fucking cock and taste your cum! Shit. I should have helped you fuck the fucking groupie. Now I've got a hard on and no one to fucking help me out with it!" he grumbled.

He was right; it wasn't arousing in the least, but laughing, I dragged my cock out, "Come on you big pussy," I said, sniggering, "Get it out and let's see who can cum quickest and farthest!"

He didn't need telling twice, and within seconds his jeans were down around his ankles as we stood, side by side with spit and pre-cum slicked hands, frantically jerking off to the sounds of U2, blaring out behind us.

I, of course, won… and we were once more back to being nothing but best friends, laughing as we got on our hands and knees and cleaned up our spunk with wet wipes, and neither of us ever mentioned the kiss again.

So that was that.

…**ooOoo….**

My plans to leave London in early October were both a blessing and a curse.

I had bought a lovely open-plan loft-style flat overlooking the Thames in Clink Street. It was an old warehouse and was really simple. It was plain in the extreme, uncluttered and featureless with unpainted brickwork, polished concrete and stainless steel. Clean, surprisingly elegant and empty, and I fell in love with it immediately, deciding to pay cash rather than get a mortgage. So, at the age of eighteen, I had already added to the fucking Cullen property portfolio…

Sigh.

In truth, I loved the first home that I'd ever had, and put my housekeeping knowledge, gleaned from Riley and Jace, into good use. I went to the supermarket and shopped, I bought a vacuum cleaner and kept my flat spotlessly clean, almost to an OCD level and loved sitting on the small balcony at night watching the pleasure boats drift up and down the Thames. But, sadly, I was there for barely three and a half months before I had to pack my bags and head to small rooms in the halls of residence in Cambridge, to begin my legal studies.

The woman who handled the sale was attractive, blonde, middle aged and a married mother of four. We fucked on and off for a few weeks and although she'd thought at first that she would be able to teach me a thing or two, the truth was the total opposite, and she loved the things that I could do to her. We still fucked from time to time even after I told her that I was leaving London, and would hook up in the afternoons if we were both at a loose end.

Wanting my home to be perfect and exactly to my specifications, I hired an interior designer and told him what I wanted. He followed my instructions, to the letter, and it looked stunning when it was completed. We shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate the end of his contract and he then let me fuck him on my balcony that night, when the booze was finished.

And although he gave an exemplary blowjob, he became a pain in the arse to be honest, he wouldn't leave me alone, saying that we had a future together and would sit on the step of the building, waiting for me to return at all hours of the day and night. Despite being honest with him, to the point of brutality to be frank, he wouldn't take 'fuck off' for an answer, and I decided there and then to only fuck strangers who didn't know me or where I lived from then on.

Having never known what I wanted to do with my life in the future, criminal law was something that I'd decided on when I was fifteen. The excitement, fear, drama and glamour of standing before dozens of people in the Old Bailey appealed to me greatly and I worked my arse off to make sure that I was top of the class in everything so that Oxford and Cambridge would be possibilities. Having finished top of my year in all subjects, both offered me a place in the end.

The fact that I was playing rugby to the highest level and rowing to the same standard, ingratiated me to both, and after a lengthy debate with Riley, I had finally settled on accepting a place at Cambridge university, much to Douglas's consternation. He wanted us to get a flat together in Oxford and play happy families.

I baulked at that idea, let me tell you! I had started to separate myself more and more from any contact with him as his level of clinginess towards me was becoming borderline obsessive, and, with the career I had planned, I didn't want to be labelled as either gay or bisexual. However much we've moved forwards, there are still facets

Strangely enough, Jasper and I had started to spend more time together now that we both knew of the other's bisexual tendencies, and the fact that we were totally comfortable with that side of our friendship.

And of course, spending more time with him, meant that I saw more of the delicious Rose and her lapdog, Emmett. I still had the occasional wet dream due to the fragrant and fucking teasing antics of Rosalie.

One evening, just before I left for university, it all came to a head.

Rose was home from university for the summer, where she was studying English Literature, and we had all got together for a rare night out where we could catch up.

Jasper's band were supporting a reasonably well-known group from Edinburgh, called Orange Fluffy Creatures—weird name, I know—and had received a far better reception than the main act to be honest. 99 Chimpanzees surpassed themselves and had the entire club jumping as they rocked on far longer than they were billed to perform.

It had been a fabulous evening, and Rose looked amazing as she wriggled and gyrated along to the sounds of Jasper and his boys, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of her as he ample assets jiggled under their fine cotton confinement.

I took my camera, as ever, and captured lots of pictures of the band, but I also, as ever, sneaked in lots of pictures of Rose, of course.

She was more beautiful than ever, with her face expertly painted—her swollen lips highlighted in bright red—and this fact caused my cock to twitch at the thought of them being wrapped around it, and she had her long, thick, blonde hair hanging loosely around her shoulders and breasts.

She was wearing the tightest, and shortest, of short denim shorts—in the history of shorts—that cut deep into her crotch, separating her pussy lips alluringly. It was very obvious to anyone looking closely that she had taken a pair of scissors to the legs of the shorts so that the cheeks of her arse all but hung out from the sorry excuse for leg holes. She even had the top button undone exposing more of her creamy, silky looking flesh, making my mouth water, Pavlov's dog-style…

Added to this, she had a skin-tight, micro-mini, cropped black top on and a matching black bra. The top plunged so low that the lacy bits showed above it and the straps showed next to the straps of her top. She was naked from just below her breasts to the top of her shorts, that hung REALLY low on her hips, and her hour glass, shapely body undulated as she moved rhythmically around the room, rotating her hips as she did so. I had to fight the urge to drop to my knees and poke my tongue into her belly button, and my fingers cramped from keeping my hands clenched into fists for so long. She was wearing mid-calf, black cowboy boots and at every given opportunity, she rubbed her fucking erect nipples over one part of my body or another as she raised her arms and swayed in time to the music.

My jeans did nothing to cover my predicament and I spent most of the evening squirming and readjusting my painfully swollen cock as she chuckled and pointed at me. As she twirled around the dance floor, she gossiped about my erection with her fucking friends, because she has always had a big bloody mouth, and I could fucking hear her.

By the time we'd returned to the Whitlock's in the early hours of the morning, I'd reached the end of my tether. She'd insisted on sitting on my knee on the journey home and had wriggled and writhed on my erection, turning around and licking her lips as she did so. She had one arm wrapped around my shoulders and her other hand stroked along her own leg as she breathed deeply. Every inhalation brought her nipple to within sucking distance of my lips and by the time I had climbed out of the car, I was on the point of jizzing all over the path. I sat in a corner of the tree house, nursing a bottle of ice-cold lager, just watching her as she twirled and swirled and flirted with anything that moved. She repeatedly bent down without bending her knees, all but exposing herself to us all and when she crouched down, with spread legs, the outside of her pussy lips were visible.

After everyone else had passed out in a drink or drug fuelled stupor, I finished my beer and I waved a quick goodbye to her, before I clambered down the ladder without saying a word, ready to return to my bathroom, in the main house, to rub one out in the shower. My balls hurt so badly that I thought they were going to explode and they ached as I climbed down the rough steps.

As I started to walk across the grass, throwing the glowing remains of my joint onto the gravel path and running my hands through my hair in frustration, I heard a stick break behind me. I turned around, scowling, expecting to see the amber eyes of a passing fox, and jumped in surprise just as Rose shimmied passed me, rubbing her hip against my groin firmly as she did so.

"Well hello there, Mr Erection!" she giggled as she did it again. "Did I make him lift his head up and say hello to the warm, night air again, Eddie?" she said.

Glowering at her, I curled my lips and I resolutely ignored her as I lengthened my steps.

Running to catch up with me, she linked arms with me and pressed her breast firmly against me once more.

"I did, didn't I?" she laughed, "He always likes to take his hood off and bare his shiny head, as he says hello to me, doesn't he, Eddie baby?"

Bitch.

Setting my lips in a hard line, I stopped, dead in my tracks and just stared at her.

"Can I have a little look at him, Ed?" she grinned at me, "Can I? I know how big he is and I just want to have a little touch to see if I can wrap my ickle wickly handy wandy around him. Can I? Huh?" she laughed—well—cackled out—drunkenly.

Stomping faster across the closely cropped grass, I mumbled and muttered to myself about fucking prick teasing fucking girls.

"Did you take some nice pictures of me tonight, Ed?" she asked, "I saw you pointing your big lens at my crotch. Did it make you hard, baby? It's not your big lens I want to see you point at my pussy right now…" she whispered, loudly.

This time I'd had enough, and I just snapped.

Staring at her, as she twirled around with her arms raised in the air, jiggling her barely covered tits and giggling almost hysterically as she danced and skipped around, singing off-key, I could feel and hear the blood loudly through my ears as my rage and anger reached boiling point. As she swung passed me once again and repeated her actions, pressing her erect nipples against me, more firmly, this time.

Hissing, my hand dropped to my crotch and squeezed my rock hard cock, and just as she walked back and started to press against me again, laughing at my very obvious predicament, I grabbed her by the upper arm, digging my fingers in so hard that I knew that I'd bruised her, spun her and body slammed her, painfully, against a tree.

"EDWARD!" she gasped out in shock as her head banged off the trunk, as I forcibly banged her against the tree once again. I pinned her by the tops of both of her arms firmly against the rough bark with my strong hands, and I breathed out heavily in front of her.

"Stop… fucking… teasing… me… Rosalie!" I panted out as I pressed myself against her warm, soft body.

The pressure eased the ache but fired my need even more and I shuddered as I leaned against her even more firmly. Grinning up at me, she arched her shoulders backwards and pressed her breasts out towards my staring eyes, "Awwww, Edward," she giggled, "You know you want me to flash my tits at you again, don't you, little boy?" she continued as she rubbed against me again.

"Stop it, Rose! I've had enough. You've fucking well driven me _mental_ for years, and I don't want this anymore, I can't handle it! You're Jazz's cousin and it has to stop! I don't want to risk my friendship with Jasper and the rest of your family because of my fixation with you any longer, so please stop! Please just fucking stop it, now!" I ordered.

"What if I don't want to stop?" she asked, pressing against me, looking up at me with her huge, bright blue eyes as she panted out breathlessly, "What if I like doing this to you too much?" she said, licking her lips.

"Just fucking well stop, Rosalie," I grunted as I pressed my body back against hers again, groaning as my cock rocked against her bare abdomen for the very first time. "Just stop… Rose… please… please. I'm asking you one more time, please just fucking well stop, or I might have to teach you a lesson!" I threatened, as I increased my grip on her arms.

"Teach me a lesson?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at me and grinned, "Are you fucking serious?" she gasped out, shaking her head incredulously. "Do you think you're man enough to do that to ME, Edward?" she laughed loudly. "I'm no groupie willing to give you a quick blow job in a grubby broom cupboard, or in the toilets in a club, you know. Yes, don't look so shocked," she said as my eyebrows shot upwards and I inhaled sharply. "I know all about you and your seedy little fucking sessions with the skanky rejects you pick up at Jasper's gigs, you and Emmett are as fucking bad as one another!" she said, sounding more than a little agitated now. "Any fucking hole will do, won't it? None of you are very discerning in your fucking conquests. You will fuck anything with a pulse, won't you?" she demanded. "Well, Edward Cullen, let me tell you something, I'm not some sweet, innocent virgin, little boy, I can promise you that. And there is no way that you could teach me anything! Not a single thing! Nothing at all!" she said, angrily. "Why don't you have a girlfriend?" she demanded. "Why?"

"I don't want one," I said, shrugging, honestly, "I fuck who I want to fuck and then walk away, just like you do."

Staring at me, with her breasts heaving heavily, "Yes." she said, "Just like me."

"So what's the problem then? We're just the same, aren't we? Why should you get to do whatever you fucking want and I can't? We're both free and can do whatever we like. Fuck off, Rosalie. What's your problem with me? I know more about sex than you could imagine, so don't even fucking try to out do me. Is this some sort of competition? Huh?" I asked.

She stared at me for the longest minute before she carried on. "With a face and body like yours, you could have anyone you fucking want, Edward. And I mean, _anyone_. I've fucked more boys than you will ever know, so don't lecture me, okay?" she bellowed. "I've been fucked by men older than my dad, father's of lame, pathetic boyfriends, who didn't know how to make me cum, so their father's took over. I've been fucked by a father and son at the same time, so I promise you that I know everything-fucking-thing there is to know about sex, so don't even go there! You have nothing new to teach me, _little boy!_" she finished, raising her chin defiantly, flushed and sweaty, and panting hard, but sounding more than a little bit jaded at the same time.

"Is that a fact Rosalie?" I asked, holding her more tightly, making her gasp under my firm grip. "You have no fucking idea of the lessons I could teach you…" I muttered out as I stared at her heaving tits, "You have NO fucking idea… no idea… of the things that I can do… that I could make you feel…" I murmured of visions of what I'd been doing with Jace for the last two years flashed across my mind and I widened my stance, kicking her feet outwards with mine, forcing her legs further apart as I did so.

"Really?" she said, flushing, "Is that a fact, _Edward_?" she asked as she licked her lips and thrust her tits upwards so that they rubbed against me once more. "Why don't you stop talking about it then, and just do it! I want to know if you've managed to master that fucking big thing yet! Go on then, show me! What are you waiting for?" she hissed out as she yanked one of her arms away from my grip and firmly prodded my cock through the stiff denim of my jeans, "Just fucking well do it, big man! I've waited fucking long enough for you to have the balls to fuck me, so get the hell on with it!"

She had teased, tormented and tempted me for four sodding years.

I didn't need telling twice…

…**..ooOoo…**

**Okay…**

**I know, I know… he is a VERY bad boy, but forgive him, please, he knows no better, until he meets Bella, that is. Don't judge him, and his wayward cock, too harshly, he still equates sex with nothing more than a physical need, like going to the toilet or blowing his nose, something he HAS to do. **

**Nothing more. **

**Nothing less. **

**Imagine what a shock falling in love with Bella will do to him?**

**I hope you liked this chapter, it was good to write but sometimes it is a struggle to jump from ISS to ECSTD and this is why this took so long, I've been busy rewriting her point of view and have just finished writing chapter 14 and posting chapter 4 so I haven't been sitting on my laurels, I promise you!**

**Hugs from my pretty London.**

**V x**


	7. Chapter 7

**So. Despite saying we were done, we aren't! Edward wouldn't shut the hell up and kept barking that he had more to say, so here we go again.**

**I yanked the entire story as I genuinely believed we were done but have reposted them or this chapter wouldn't make any sense at all!**

**I'm once again going it alone, so any mistakes you find, please pm me and be nice because this story is important to me.**

**I don't own Twilight, obviously, the fragrant Mrs M does, I do, however, own everything but the characters names in this story as the antics this lot get up to couldn't be further removed from her story if you tried!**

**Once more it's dedicated to the wife and my Laura Mars.**

**Be nice, and welcome back to the boy and his perversions!**

**ROCK THAT BODY**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"_**I wanna rock right now  
I want I wanna rock right now  
I want I wanna rock right now  
Now, now, rock right now  
I want I wanna rock right now  
I want I wanna rock right now  
I want I wanna rock right nowwwwww**_

I wanna dance, I wanna dance in the light  
I wanna rock, I wanna rock yo body,  
I wanna go, I wanna go for a ride,  
Up in the music & rock yo body right,

Rock ya body, come on come on rock that body, (Rock your body)  
Rock ya body, come on come on rock, ya, body,  
Rock ya body, come on come on rock that body (Rock yo body)  
Rock ya body, come on come on rock, ya, body!

Let me see your body rock,  
Shakin' from the bottom to the top,  
Freak to what the Dj drop,  
We be the ones to make it hot, (To make it hot)  
Electric shock, energy like a million watts,  
Space be boom and the speakas pop,  
Galactic gone and miss the spot,  
We bumpin' in your parkin' lot!

(Parkin' lot)  
When you comin' up in the spot,  
Don't bring nothin' we call pink dot,  
'Cause we running around the clock,  
Hit the lights and then turn them off,  
If you bring that don't make you soft,  
Like the jungle we run the block,  
No one rollin' the way we rock!

I want I wanna rock right now  
I want I wanna rock right now  
I want I wanna rock right nooowww

I wanna dance, I wanna dance in the light  
I wanna rock, I wanna rock yo body,  
I wanna go, I wanna go for a ride,  
Up in the music & rock yo body right,

Rock ya body, come on come on rock that body, (Rock that body)  
Rock ya body, come on come on rock, ya, body,  
Rock ya body, come on come on rock that body (Rock your body)  
Rock ya body, come on come on rock, ya, body!

Super fly ladies, All on my,  
Super fly ladies, All on my,  
Super fly ladies, All on my  
Super - Super fly ladies,

Yeah, you could be big,  
But,  
_**Long as you feel like you're all,  
You could be the model type,  
Skinny with no appetite,  
Short stacks, black or white,  
Long as you do what you like,  
Body outta sight.  
Body (Body Outta Sight.)**_

She does the two step,  
And the tongue drop,  
She does the cabbage patch,  
And the bus stop.  
She like Electro, she love Hip Hop,  
She like the Reggae, she feel Punk Rock.  
She like the Samba, and the Mambo,  
She like to Break Dance, and Calypso.

Get a little crazy, get a little stupid,  
Get a little crazy... (little crazy, little crazy)

I wanna dance, I wanna dance in the light  
I wanna rock, I wanna rock yo body,  
I wanna go, I wanna go for a ride,  
Up in the music & rock yo body right,

Rock yo body right,  
Rock yo body - Yeah!

Come on. (Yeah!)

Rock ya body, come on come on rock that body, (Rock that body)  
Rock ya body, come on come on rock, ya, body,  
Whoa-oh oh-oh oh-oh-oh-oh!

I wanna - I wanna rock right now!  
I wanna - I wanna rock

Whoa-oh oh-oh oh-oh-oh-oh!

I wanna - I wanna rock

Whoa-oh oh-oh oh-oh-oh-oh!

I wanna - I wanna rock right now!  
I wanna - I wanna rock right now!  
I wanna - I wanna rock right now!  
Now now, rock right now.

I wanna - I wanna rock right now!  
I wanna - I wanna rock right now!  
I wanna - I wanna rock right nooooow!

…**..ooOoo…**

**Previously**

"**Is that a fact, Rosalie?" I asked, holding her more tightly, making her gasp under my grip. "You have no fucking idea of the lessons I could teach you…" I muttered out as I stared at her heaving tits, "You have NO fucking idea… no idea… of the things that I can do… that I could make you feel…" I murmured of visions of what I'd been doing with Jace for the last two years flashed across my mind and I widened my stance, kicking her feet outwards with mine, forcing her legs further apart as I did so.**

"**Really?" she said, flushing, "Is that a fact, **_**Edward**_**?" she asked as she licked her lips and thrust her tits upwards so that they rubbed against me once more. "Why don't you stop talking about it then, and just do it! I want to know if you've managed to master that fucking big thing yet! Go on then, show me! What are you waiting for?" she hissed out as she yanked one of her arms away from my grip and firmly prodded my cock through the stiff denim of my jeans, "Just fucking well do it, big man! I've waited fucking long enough so get the hell on with it!"**

**She had teased, tormented and tempted me for four sodding years. **

**I didn't need telling twice…**

…**ooOoo….**

Grabbing both of her narrow, slender wrists in one of my big hands now, I yanked her arms upwards above her head and pinned them against the course trunk of the tree. Curling my lip up at her in anger, I took great pleasure in banging them against the bark harder than I should have done really. I did this repeatedly until she stopped fighting me and stood still, panting breathlessly.

"Fuck!" she yelped loudly, "That fucking hurt, Edward! You stupid wanker! I'm going to have bruises tomorrow! I'm going to tell mum and dad that you hurt me!"

"Really?" I said, grinning at her. "Is that what you're going to do? Tittle tattle on me to your family? Okay then, I'll stop, shall I?" I hissed out, dropping her arms.

"No! Don't stop!" she gasped, grabbing my hand again. "Do that again! I like it! Now, get on with it and don't stop!" she yelped. "Now what the fuck are you going to do to me?" she asked, defiantly as she raised her chin to me, her beautiful periwinkle blue eyes bright and darting around as she watched me carefully.

Still grasping hands I tried to pull away. "I don't think I'll do anything to you now, Rosalie," I said, staring at her, finally yanking free. "No. I'm going to bed. I've gone off the idea now."

I lied obviously and my cock was almost murdering itself in its efforts to get out of my zip. "Yep. I'm bored now."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Bored? I BORE YOU? I could yell for help you know! Imagine how that would look to Auntie Charlotte, Uncle Garrett and your beloved Jasper?" she hissed out. "Don't stop, Edward! Please! I need you! I want this! I've always wanted you! Please!"

"Well because you've asked so nicely…" I whispered, licking my lips as I grabbed her wrists once more and yanked her hands above her head.

"Oh God… squeeze harder… oh…" she whined. "What are you going to do?"

"What do you want me to do to you, Rose?" I asked, barely audibly, as I moved my face so close to her, that as I spoke, my breath made her lovely hair move. Her chest heaved up and down as she stared at me and her face and neck flushed a deep shade of pink. "I'm waiting, what do you want me to do to you? I suggest you tell me now, or I'll go upstairs to bed and you won't get another chance. Tell me!" I said, coldly as I leaned forwards and nuzzled against her undulating waves for the first time ever.

Her eyebrows shot upwards as her eyes opened widely. "Fuck me…" she said, quietly before she licked her bottom lip. "I want you to fuck me… I should have been your first, Edward. Not some skanky girl from the school."

If only she knew…

"I want you… I always have wanted you." She said.

"What?" I asked, as I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Fuck me, Edward. I've waited for long enough to get you in this position, you arse! So, yes, fuck me!"

Shit.

"You want me to fuck you do you?" I panted out as her fingers began to grapple to hold on to mine.

"Yes!" she squealed loudly.

"I could teach you how to fuck you know?" I growled at her.

"I don't need fucking teaching you idiot! I've had far more fucking men than you've had hot dinners! Do it!"

Slithering my hand down the centre of her body, she gasped as I grabbed her crotch firmly.

She was, unsurprisingly, wearing no knickers—I could feel through the material that there was no barrier other than her shorts. And we both groaned as I stroked my hand along with denim, and found that her entire crotch was dripping wet.

Staring at her for the longest moment, I let go of her hands briefly and dropped to my knees in front of her, before I dragged her shorts down with one hand and stroked my fingers over her closely cropped, blonde pubic hair making her squeal in surprise and jerk her pelvis forwards.

"Hurry up, Edward," she said, her teeth chattering as she did so, "What are you fucking waiting for?" she gasped out, "I won't stop you… do whatever you want to me… just do it now!" she continued as she snaked her tongue out and began to stroke along her upper lip, seductively.

"Excited already are we, Miss Masen?" I asked, grinning, as I pulled her lips apart and circled her erect little clitoris.

"Oh God… do that again," she moaned as she arched forwards again.

Doing as she asked, I used the flat pad of my finger to push the hood back further and pressed firmly at the top of it.

"Holy fuck!" she hissed out, "Do that again!"

Laughing, I shook my head and let go of her as I stood up again.

"Bastard!" she yelped. "What the hell are you doing? I need you to suck my clit!"

"No, I'm not doing that to you…" I said, smiling. "I want to try something altogether different with you…"

As I kicked her legs apart she gasped, and I twisted two fingers together and without giving her any foreplay, and without any warning, I thrust them firmly up inside of her.

For the first time ever, I felt an emotion other than the need to please myself when it came to fucking.

I wanted to do this.

Of course I wanted to touch her, kiss her, fuck her… but I wanted something else… I wanted to worship the body that I'd masturbated to the memory and pictures of for five years and at that thought, my heart clenched and my cock twitched.

No.

I couldn't do that.

I wouldn't do that.

I wouldn't and couldn't let emotion get in the way of this simple act of unbridled lust because there would be no future for Rosalie and me to be together.

It was hard not to shove her to ground and thrust inside her immediately. The way her inner muscles clutched and clenched around my intruding digits made my breath hitch. The years of fantasies hadn't done her beautiful, voluptuous body justice and unable to resist any longer, I leaned forwards and ran my tongue along her uncovered throat.

She tasted of sex and sunshine and I groaned as desperation almost overwhelmed me. Unable to control myself any longer, I tightened my grasp on her wrists and bit down on her neck.

"Fucking hell!" she gasped as I began to plunge my digits in and out of her sopping wet pussy immediately, hard and fast, "Fuuuuuuck! What the fuck is that!" she jerked as I moved my hand faster.

She felt unbelievably tight, compared to Jace anyway, and as her muscles clamped down on my invading fingers, I once more had to fight the overwhelming urge to throw her forcibly onto the ground and to shove my cock inside her and to fuck her senseless.

"Get ready to scream, Rosalie!" I hissed out at her, pressing my face against her hair and inhaling deeply. She smelled so good and my cock twitched and jerked frantically in my clothing as I curled my fingers inwards and upwards, and pressed hard against her g-spot, building up both friction and rhythm as I did so.

Rosalie squealed lightly and pushed back against me as I moved my hand faster and faster. The sloppy sounds cranked my own arousal up to fever pitch as I once again pulled her hands away from the tree and slammed them back. "Get ready to scream so loudly that you won't be able to speak tomorrow, you fucking teasing bitch!" I continued as my hand blurred in its movements.

"More… Edward!" she panted out, staring at me with wide eyes, as I used my thumb to press down just above her exposed clit firmly, and pushed the entire heel of my palm against her pubic bone.

Curling my fingers inwards in a more exaggerated arch, I pressed and rubbed her g-spot with more pressure, but despite this, she wanted more. "Harder! Fucking do it harder! I'm not telling you again!" she gasped out, as her inner muscles started to twitch.

"Is that good?" I asked, grinning broadly at her as I curled them more and pressed so hard, I was sure it must have been uncomfortable.

"Stop!" she squealed out loud, trying to wriggle her hands free, as I dug my fingers in harder and moved even faster. "Oh, God!" she yelped, "You've… really got… to stop, Edward!"

"No." I said flatly, "You told me to do this, and I'm going to fucking well teach you a fucking lesson and make you cum like you've never come before!" I spat at her. "I'll show you! You will know exactly what you've been missing! You've driven me nuts for years and now I'm going to pay you fucking back!"

"STOP! For… fuck sake… Edward!" she yelped, "STOP! PLEASE! I'm warning… warning you… if you… don't fucking stop, I'm… going to… piss all… over your… hand!" she shouted as I moved faster and harder, laughing as I did so, and within a few more minutes, she came writhing and screaming against me as she gushed and flooded my hand with her cum.

Pulling my fingers out of her still spasming pussy, I lifted them to my nose and inhaled her unique scent deeply, before I popped them into my mouth, smirked at her as she stared at me wide eyed and breathless, and sucked and licked them clean.

"Wow! You do taste good, Rose," I said, chuckling, "I always wondered whether you could ever taste as good as you look, and as the crotch of your knickers did!" I laugh, "And I'm really happy to say that you fucking do." I finished.

"Fucking hell…" she muttered as she watched me as I sucked my fingers all the way into my mouth, and she shivered, "Who the fuck taught you how to finger a girl like that? Who? Huh? I've had sex with more boys and men than I care to mention, Edward, and I've never been fucked like that before!" she exclaimed, slumping back against the tree.

Grinning, I stepped back a little bit and smirked at her.

"You made me squirt all over the place, you little fucker!" she gasped out. "What the hell? How the hell did you do that? Huh? How? Tell me! I never knew you could do that… who fucking taught you that?" she said in disbelief as we both looked down to see her cum running down the inside of her legs, soaking her shorts and boots as it did so.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Rosalie?" I asked as I sucked my fingers again, "You taste really good by the way. Did you know that? Have you ever tasted yourself?" I asked and as she gasped, I shoved my wet fingers into her mouth and her eyes almost popped out of their sockets in absolute shocked disbelief.

"Fucking hell!" she gasped out and as I pulled my fingers out of her mouth, she shuddered. Looking up into my eyes again, she licked her bottom lip, spread her legs wider and smiled as she stepped out of one leg of her shorts and widened her stance. "Fuck me, Edward…" she murmured as her legs started to quiver, "Fuck me... mum, dad, Auntie Charlotte and Uncle Garrett will be so pissed they won't hear us in my room… come on…"

"If my fingers felt like that when they fucked you, imagine what my tongue and cock could do to you, Rose?" I said, as I raised my eyebrow at her and pulled her close to me with one arm and stroked along her pussy with the other hand.

Her tits were pressed against my body and her whole chest heaved as small beads of sweat settled on her top lip, "Fuck me…" she whimpered as I held her wrists more tightly. "Fuck me, Edward… please… fuck me anyway you like… you know that you want to…" she whispered out to me, as I blew her a kiss and smiled brightly at her obvious desperation, "You know that you've always wanted to… I'm a great fuck you know… I give a great blow job too… and you know you want to…"

She was right, of course, I had always wanted to fuck her and the thought of lying on her crumpled sheets whilst she rode me and I held onto her breasts almost brought me to my knees and shuffling forwards, I could feel my resolve weakening…

But…

My hand still held her arms firmly above her head and as I let them drop, I grinned at her, "Did you enjoy me fingering you?" I asked, and as she nodded frantically, I continued, "I'm fucking good at fucking, aren't I?" I said, quietly as I nuzzled my nose through her fragrant hair again. She made me feel like a moth hovering too close to a naked flame. It would be so, so very easy to give in and do what my screaming body was trying to force me to do.

"Yes… That was amazing…" she whimpered, "Who taught you to do that?" she asked, "Please fuck me, Edward. I need you… you're amazing… I want you… you have no idea how much… please… I want you so badly…"

Her words almost finished me off, and letting go of her hands, I dropped my grasping fingers to her hips and yanked her closer.

"That's good to know, Rose. Really good to know…" I said, staring at her and licking my bottom lip, tasting her on my tongue once again. "After all this time… you want me as much as I want you… I like that… I needed to know that… it feels great to know that at long last…" I said, as I sucked my lip into my mouth, humming at her distinctive flavour.

She was sweeter than Jace, sadly, just as I always knew that she would be, and without thinking about what I was doing, I allowed my hands to move up her body and to cup her breasts.

At last…

My balls throbbed and ached so much, that I thought I was about to spill my load in my clothes.

They spilled out over my outspread fingers and I stroked my thumbs over her hardened nipples repeatedly before I ground my crotch against her nakedness and the need to plunge into her body almost—almost—overwhelmed me.

Her skin was soft and silky and her tits felt amazing as I squeezed them gently in my large hands.

"Harder, Edward…" she moaned as I rotated her engorged nubs gently. "More… please… I need it harder than that… I like it to almost hurt…"

How easy it would be to pull my jeans down, spin her around, and push my cock into her soaking wet, desperate body. Since I was barely out of my teens, this moment—THIS moment—was all I dreamed of and yet here I was, able to think coldly and dispassionately about what this brief act would do to my friendship with the Masen's and Whitlock's and as such, emotionally, I pulled back.

"What are you doing, Edward," she asked as I let go of her breasts. "Don't stop! Do whatever you want to me; just make me feel that again! Please! I've never felt that before! I've never cum like that before! You're so good! I want you, Edward… please make love to me… my room, your room, the tree house… I don't fucking care where! Just do it!" she begged as I pressed the palm of my hand against my cock and swallowed thickly.

Whimpering, she tried to press against me more, and smiling at her, I continued, "Shame you won't ever know HOW fucking good I am, huh, Rose?" I chuckled, and without saying another word, I turned and walked away from her, leaving her semi-naked, panting and sweating in the night.

The words 'make love' made it walking away from her far easier than the constant begging for me to fuck her.

I don't ever want to 'make love' to anyone.

Ever.

That's not what I want.

No.

I want to fuck someone's brains out until their bodies collapse in sated exhaustion and in turn have the same done to me. I don't have time for any smaltzy romantic clap trap so no, I fuck, hard and fast, I don't make love.

Life isn't like that.

It's cold, hard, painful and lonely. The only love I'd ever felt was that from the cats and Jasper and Rose's family, and I don't want to 'feel' anything other than the release I get at the point of cumming.

Simple as.

Striding across the garden, I clenched my fists tightly and forced myself to keep right on walking without looking back at the sobbing girl behind me.

After running upstairs to my room, I ripped my clothes off and didn't even bother showering. And after clambering into bed, I pulled my fingers to my nose and inhaled Rosalie's unique scent repeatedly before I sucked them into my mouth and standing next to my bed, I used hand cream to lubricate my hand as I wanked hard and fast to her taste. I tried very hard not to feel any kind of guilt at the way she'd cried when I'd turned away and rejected her.

As my cum splattered across my sheets, I looked up and saw that she was watching me through the doorway again.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist doing that… what a waste… I would have loved to have tasted you too… if you change your mind, Edward, you know where my room is…" she said, looking sadly dejected as she turned and left the room.

Flopping down on my bed, I stared at the ceiling as my cum dried on my back and legs and fought the internal fight to descend the stairs to Rose's room. I didn't sleep a wink all night but when I went downstairs to the toilet in the night, regardless of the fact that I had my own bathroom, I could hear her crying.

I felt like a total fucker.

The next morning, I sat opposite her at the breakfast table and totally ignored her whilst I munched my way through a bowl of muesli. Despite the fact that she did her utmost to catch my eye, I resolutely spoke to those either side of me and didn't answer any of her questions. I could see how red and swollen her eyes and cheeks were and Jasper kept looking at us both oddly. Emmett and Charlotte were oblivious to the fact that there was anything wrong.

Jasper asked us both a couple of times if we were okay and we said yes, but Rose left the table with a quivering lip and, unusually covered up for her, she disappeared into her room for the rest of the day.

She started ringing me, daily, on some jumped up matter or another, but I refused to respond to her calls because strangely enough, now that I'd fucked her with my hand, I no longer craved her.

How weird was that?

It was like I'd scratched an itch deliciously, and put it to rest in the process, so to speak, but we were friends and I didn't want that to sour between us.

Feeling like a shit when I heard from Jasper, and Emmett, that she was shutting herself away, yearning for some bloke who had fucked her and run, I thought I had better make things between us better.

I hadn't _actually _fucked her and run, BUT…

Remembering how shitty it felt when I though Riley was rejecting me, I swallowed my pride and decided that I really needed to act my age and not my shoe size.

So, several weeks after the event, I rang her, and we met up in town and we did chat about what had happened. She cried, and I felt worse than ever, and eventually, we both decided it was a secret that would stay with us and we would try to forget it had ever happened. I was always discreet, always, and never fucked and told, but I didn't want her anymore and that was that.

This was becoming the story of my life.

Once the unattainable had been attained, I no longer wanted it.

Sigh.

Life went back to normality quite quickly after my meeting with Rosalie but we didn't really spend much time together. When I visited Jasper's, she was rarely there and I got the impression that she was avoiding me altogether. It made things easier to be honest but Jasper said she was seeing a new bloke, one of her dad's best friends believe it or not, and was being kept very busy.

This would usually have made me as jealous as hell and go out and find several girls, or boys to fuck, to get it out of my system, but not this time. This time I felt absolutely nothing but that I hoped the man was treating her well.

Jasper asked about my Rose fixation from time to time and seemed quite disappointed when I told him that I was no longer bothered either way by her. She was a friend, and that was all.

Alice and I were spending more and more time together, but it was still only friendship. I knew we made quite an arresting sight together; me, tall, coppery haired, muscular and green eyed. Her, short, delicate, with jet black hair and periwinkle blue eyes, but we were truly just very close friends.

As time went by, we got closer and closer, to the point that I saw more of her than anyone else. She asked me everything about my sexual history and was fascinated about my time with Riley and Jace. She wanted to know every detail and although I wasn't embarrassed about sex in any way, I didn't want to frighten her with my past exploits.

No matter how much I tried to distract her by taking her to nice restaurants and bought her lovely things, she wouldn't stop until I eventually told her everything. She was enraptured and sat silently, listening as I kept nothing back. She frowned when I told her what I'd done to Rosalie but still said nothing. Eventually, she asked about the pain that they'd inflicted on me during sex and why I'd liked it.

That was tricky to explain. The only answer I could give her was that I enjoyed handing the decisions over to someone else. I'd always been free and to be pinned down, metaphorically speaking, was liberating in its restraints.

Nibbling on a croissant as we sat in Covent Garden, she nodded slowly but didn't say much as I did my best to verbalise why I enjoyed and needed this part of sexual freedom.

Two weeks later, Alice instigated a conversation once more about sex acts outside of the 'normal' realm. She surprised me by admitting that she too would like to experiment with the dark side of her sexuality. She said that she thought she was very much a submissive in all things, and although she thought I was more dominant than submissive, she still decided to take me to one of the BDSM clubs she had been researching, online, just days before I turned eighteen, with a fake ID.

Stunned to the point of silence for the first time in ages, I sat, agog, at what she was telling me.

Alice? A submissive? Was she nuts?

Tiny, delicate, diminutive Alice. I thought she would be eaten alive in that sordid world and I did everything I could to dissuade her. She would have none of it. She was adamant that she wanted to go and if I wouldn't go with her, she would just on her own.

This frightened me witless, so I reluctantly agreed to go with her.

Her excitement level got higher and higher as the days passed and I decided to make the most of it and even had a back, sac and crack wax just in case I got lucky and got fucked. I was never a boy scout or a cadet but I knew the ethos and it was always better to be prepared in advance. She was terribly nervous as well and insisted that we would have a little look at what was going on, we would leave and go for dinner instead. She was convinced that she was going to be laughed at and asked me to stay close to her at all times because she was frightened. Despite wanting to do this, she was still quite an innocent having only had one brief relationship with a man that lasted a couple of weeks. Although he had gone down on her and fingered her, she hadn't cum and was still technically a virgin so venturing into this world in any way was quite a leap of faith and very brave of her.

I wasn't entirely sure that Alice should be dabbling in this lifestyle; I was reasonably seasoned and jaded by any kind of sex acts so the thought of seeing something new and exciting intrigued me. I really did want to find out more about it and to see if it was something that might be for me, but even more importantly, I wanted to protect Alice from what could be a dangerous situation.

She drove me insane and dragged me into every sodding shop in the West End looking for the 'right' outfit. After spending four hours in Top Shop, Oxford Street, I wanted to kill myself. Loud, generic, crappy music pounded incessantly and hysterically excitable women rushed around insanely, carrying armfuls of clothes to God only knows where. The warehouse sized space was bulging to bursting point with every colour and style of garment imaginable and the heat was unbearable. Their bored boyfriends and husbands looked to be no happier than me and we all looked as miserable as one another as we stripped down to our t-shirts. After she seemed to have tried on the entire contents of the shop, she bought a few piddly items and I decided there and then, that I would NEVER go clothes shopping with a girl _ever_ again.

For the few days before the assigned date, Alice disappeared to do whatever girls do to get themselves ready for a hot night out. I continued getting stuff prepared for my move to Cambridge and tried not to let my own excitement mount but I did find myself perusing quite odd shops in Soho and Old Compton Street and attracted quite a lot of attention. I had a couple of threesomes with a husband and wife that I met in one of the coffee shops there. It was quite enjoyable and as ever, they wanted to 'keep in touch' and I gave a fake number and name so that I could leave cordially. The wife got very excited when she sat on my face as I let her husband ride my cock. As I said, it was all good, not so clean fun and I hardly gave it a second thought. Sex had become delegated to little more than a bodily function.

More than once I was told that I didn't look like a Norman and that my parents were cruel labelling me thus.

I went for a hot towel, cut throat razor shave on the day of our assignation and even had a haircut to ensure I looked the best I could.

Alice met me outside the plain, non-descript 1960's, breeze block style building, and I was surprised to see that, despite the frenzied shopping sprees, she was dressed conservatively in a tightly belted black coat that covered her from her neck down to her ankles, and high heeled boots.

She smiled and stroked my naked, baby soft cheek when she saw me.

"Edward!" she squealed so loudly that I think everyone in a nine mile radius must have heard her. "You look so pretty! You're going to be a big hit in here tonight!"

Grinning at her enthusiasm, I kissed and hugged her back. I was wearing black jeans and a tight black t-shirt, just as she told me to, and clasping my hand, she giggled and dragged me inside.

The club was large and sprawling, set in a basement of a building in Tooley Street, a few minutes' walk from my flat. Blinking rapidly to allow my eyes to adapt to the different light, I squinted and tried to get my bearings.

Payment had already been made online by Alice, and after our hands were stamped, we were given a luminous pink wrist band, that apparently meant 'access all areas' and we were ushered inside. As my eyes scanned the darkened rooms, I continued to blink until I became accustomed to the twilight like lighting and looked around me.

The entire area was painted black and was uplit all around the coving with tiny little halogen lights. This made people, their shadows, and their movements, meld into a strange soup, adding a slightly disjointed, bizarre twist on things. A glowing, halo like haze permeated and somewhere there must have been a dry ice machine blowing because the slightly acrid smell burned my nostrils and made my eyes water as the mist billowing around writhing bodies.

Squinting as I turned back to the host, I almost fell over at the sight before me.

Gasping, I stepped back and stared in amazement at Alice. Whilst I was perusing our surroundings and musing on what type of scenes we were about to see for the first time, she had morphed into something quite different to her usually shy and retiring self. She'd stripped her coat off and revealed that her 'conservative' outfit was actually a pair of high cut, low-waisted, black, silk hot pants, a transparent lacy, half-cupped bra and thigh high patent leather boots with hold up black and nude striped stockings that were peeking out of the top.

Fuck.

Instant hard on.

Twirling around in a circle, she raised her arms showing off her tiny, slender body and she grinned at my shocked expression.

My eyes were fixed on her hard, very obvious, deep coloured nipples.

Holy fuck.

They were far bigger than I'd imagined. I'd thought they would be small because of how little she was everywhere else, but I was very wrong. They were large and a deep cherry in shade, and before I could collect my thoughts and try to force them to behave, my brain decided it wanted to know how they felt under my tongue and against my erection.

My mouth went instantly dry and I looked up at her face and down to her flat, tanned tummy and back to her face repeatedly as her mouth opened and closed. Looking back down, I swallowed against my thickened feeling tongue as I stared at her obvious camel toe. Her shorts were so tight that they looked like they'd been spray painted on her slight body.

"Do I look nice, Edward?" she giggled as I immediately dropped my hands to cover my erection. "Don't hide that!" she said laughing as she pointed to my crotch, "It's flattering! I was beginning to think I was a hideous hag and that I'd chosen the wrong outfit! Do you think anyone will fancy me here? I'm chuffed you've got a hard on, sweetie! You get it up for everyone but me usually! Especially Rose!"

Smiling at her broadly, I wrapped my arms around her, yanked her close to me and kissed her on the forehead, "I don't think I'm what you're looking for, love," I chuckled, fighting the urge to slide my hands down her naked back and to place them on her hip bones. I wanted to feel the silkiness of her skin beneath my fingertips. Alice was important to me and if I made an inappropriate pass at her, that would be the immediate end of our friendship and for the second time in my life, I knew what was and wasn't more important than a meaningless fuck. "Sadly, you need something else. I know it and hope you do too. You do, don't you?"

"Maybe you're not… maybe… I don't know what I need right now, but it's nice that you think I'm pretty and sexy tonight…" she said as we both scanned the dark space, "Gosh… this place is something else…" she muttered, as we both nodded at the same time, looking at the scantily dressed men and women interacting in every possible coupling known to human kind. In every corner, and on every surface, a sex act of some description was taking place or being performed for an enthusiastic and highly _excited_ audience.

Tied against a wooden cross in the corner closest to us, was a very attractive, muscular, firm, honey fleshed, beautiful and VERY well endowed, young man.

His arms and legs were shackled to the posts, and he was sweating and wincing through gritted teeth as every single hair on his head and body was being individually plucked out by two other young men, with little gold tweezers. Yet despite his very obvious pain, his cock was ramrod hard and leaking non-stop.

Fucking hell.

"Does he like that?" Alice asked, sounding as horrified as I felt her dig her fingernails firmly into my hand, and blanched and she turned to look at me with disbelieving wide eyes. "Is that why he has an erection?"

Chuckling, I shook my head and laughed, "I guess so! I presume he's what they call a masochist. Don't you?"

As we continued to watch closely, and walked towards them, one of the other men moved behind him, parting his arse cheeks with one hand while he started to pull out the hairs around the guy's hole with the tweezers—one by one—as the other man began plucking the fuzz off his balls.

Ouch.

Shit.

Shuddering, I turned away, and the thought of that being done to me had made my rock hard cock shrivel in its jean-clad prison in the blink of an eye or the pluck of a course, pubic hair.

Jace and Riley had often taken a cut-throat razor to my balls and waxed my sac, but that was quite enough, grooming wise, for me. Frowning, I increased my grip on Alice and pulled us around to face the other way.

"Shit, Ali…" I groaned as I looked back over my shoulder just in time to see the shackled man cum in a wide arc as the man behind him did something to him. "What the fuck is the matter with him? Why the hell would having his arse hole plucked make him cum like a bloody geyser?"

Maybe this wasn't the world for me after all…

"Don't be so judgemental, Edward!" she said in her high pitched, tinkling bell like voice. "Everyone likes different things! Look at some of the stuff you've done and had done to you? That wouldn't exactly be classified as normal, now would it, sweetie? It's quite pervy to be fucked by, and to fuck, your school teacher and his girlfriend you know? I wouldn't call you names and curl my lip at you, would I? Stop being a big drama queen and just enjoy it!"

Ugh.

"Drama queen?" I said, aghast at her surprisingly dominant tone, "Who the hell is a fucking drama queen? I'm not fucking gay, Alice!"

"You let men fuck your arse and then you give them blow jobs, so I think you give a bloody good impression of being bi-sexual. Don't you?" she said, cocking an eyebrow in my direction and grinning.

"What the hell has got into you?" I said, shocked.

"Nothing yet… but hope springs eternal, sweetie!" she sniggered.

"ALICE!" I barked out. "Jesus Christ! I thought you were shy about watching this shit?"

"Not anymore… I think I might be in the right place to find what I need… don't you? And who knows? By the end of tonight, I might have had my—what did you call it? Oh yes, my _cherry _popped!" she said, blowing me a kiss.

Yanking out of my hold, and grabbing my hand, Alice laughed at my horrified expression, before dragging me into the next room where two women were lying on a wide padded table. They were locked in the sixty-nine position, frantically sucking, licking and fingering one another whilst the throng of people surrounding them shouted instructions and encouragement. Their legs were locked around one another's heads and they were frantically writhing and jerking against one another and the noises made my heart pound and mouth water instantly.

Now that was something to see. I'd done this with Jace, of course, as well as with Riley and Douglas, on many occasions. I'd watched her and Riley, and Riley and Doulas, do it together too, but I'd never seen two girls do it and my cock and balls crept out of their frightened, deflated state in their denim cave to sniff the air, seeking out the scent of sex, and more importantly, pussy, once more.

The girls moved so that one was now lying on top of the other, both frantically eating the other out, seemingly oblivious to all of us watching their desperate attempts.

"Cecile!" a Dominant ordered loudly, "Push your tongue in further, girl!" he barked, "You've been taught better than that!" he shouted loudly, as he flicked her backside with a wooden ruler, "I will whip your arse until you're raw if you don't try harder! Do it NOW! Make her cum at once!" he yelled as she began pushing her tongue in and out of the other girls' pussy further and faster whilst her nose pumped, rhythmically against her clit.

The bottom girl arched her back and screamed as a stream of liquid shot out of her and splashed all over 'Cecile's' face. I stood in stunned disbelief as everyone else clapped and cheered wildly.

Holy fuck!

Once more, I'd done this and experienced it with Jacinta on many occasions—I was quite an expert at making girls squirt as Rosalie had experienced, but I'd never watched two girls doing it to each other and I was beyond aroused.

Looking down at my whimpering friend, I smiled as I saw that Alice was flushed and panting loudly as she watched the two women begin kissing one another's genitals frantically. The one called Cecile groaned loudly as the other girl started fingering her and sucking her clit once more.

Shit.

A fine trickle of sweat trailed from my hairline and ran down my spine as my balls started to burn in overwhelming desire, and swallowing loudly, I yanked a very unwilling, Alice's hand, as I pulled us into another room before we both embarrassed ourselves by rushing into the centre of the room and joined in with Cecile and her chum. Or I came in my jeans.

Alice was getting very appreciative looks from everyone close by, as was I. We were fresh meat I guess, but she did look very lovely.

In the next room, a slender, small girl was lying on a table, spread into a widely stretched saltire, and her naked body looked amazing as she acted as a platter, covered with tiny bite sized pieces of sushi.

She was being nibbled and sucked all over by countless men and women and as I looked down, I saw that she had a harness on around her hips that held a vibrator firmly inside of her, driving her insane. She looked agonised with desire, and a large ball was in her mouth to keep her silent. Saliva trickled down the sides of her face and onto her hair and she kept screwing her eyes up in a bid to control herself. She was tied down so tightly, that despite every muscle quivering, she couldn't move an inch to seek satisfaction and instead had to lie in the same position and suffer deliciously.

In one corner, an older man, wearing black rubber chaps and nothing else, was bent over a bar stool. He was bound with brown parcel tape, firmly to each metal leg, stretched almost painfully, and was being fucked hard and fast in the arse by a young woman wearing a massive, bright pink, fucking strap on whilst he sucked the cock of a man dressed in leder hosen, with the front flap undone.

The girl looked amazing. She was dressed in shocking orange, rubber hold up stockings and blood red stilettoes, and nothing else. Her large breasts bounced up and down in time with her movements and it was almost hypnotic. Looking at Alice, I could see that her eyes were locked on the moving mammories too.

Hmmm…

The man being fucked grunted and whimpered as they both used him for their pleasure. His cock was trapped against the stool and I supposed that he was either getting off on the friction or this position was restricting any chance of him cumming. His head was held up, rigid and uncomfortably by the other man as he rammed himself in and out of his gaping mouth.

Fuck…

I thought I was experienced and this had been done to me on many occasions, but I hadn't been tied down like this and everything from my belly button downwards clenched in desire.

Alice and I looked at one another in stunned silence.

Even I would have blanched at the way that the dildo was pounding in and out of his arse hole, but I would give it a try. The surge of feeling the rushed from my balls into my cock almost brought me to my knees, and inhaling sharply, I tugged Alice away from the scene and walked through the next door. I had no choice; I was on the point of seriously embarrassing myself.

Gripping each other's suddenly slippery, hot hands almost too tightly, we pressed together, nervously as we crossed the threshold. Stumbling, we both stopped dead in our tracks at the loud screams that were being emitted, because they were more than a little bit high pitched and shocking and sounded as if the person doing the screaming was in excruciating pain.

A young male submissive was shackled to a metal pole with a cross bar. He had clothes pegs attached to his scrotum and all over his chest, including his nipples. They ran in two parallel lines down his body, from his chest, all the way down to his groin where they then continued along his inner thighs to his knees. His Master was using a black whip to flick the tops of his feet and he had his head back with his eyes closed and his mouth open, dribbling saliva, seemingly unaware that they weren't alone. Without warning, another Dominant approached them and grabbed hold of two threads before he yanked them forwards.

Every peg was ripped—and I really do mean _ripped_—from his body, sounding like snapping mouse traps as they were wrenched away from his delicate skin. He screamed, arched his back and came in long ropes of opaque cum all over the feet of the first man.

My eyes instantly filled with tears and I winced and flinched in horror as my cock packed its bag and headed off to the safety of my pelvis, joined swiftly by my testicles and I clenched my teeth in a bid to stop me from screeching like a girl. How could anyone like that kind of shit?

"Fucking hell… that's just… just…" Alice whispered as she looked at me, and I nodded at her, mute for once in my life. What was there to say?

Walking quickly into the next room, we both hissed in horror at the scene in front of us. A late middle aged female submissive was suspended upside down from the ceiling. Her knees were bent and her legs were bound in that position. Another woman, dressed like a perverted librarian, was smacking the soles of her feet with a ruler so hard that they were crimson. She jerked and yelped in pain with every hit but she was still smiling. Her breasts were so tightly bound, they were an angry lilac blue in colour and her nipples were clamped. Alice and I looked at one another and just nodded this time without saying a word.

I wanted to go home because that the sound of the pegs being pulled off was still firing around my brain and I decided that this was just not something I would ever want to try. Having my bollocks smacked with a branch was enough to bring me to my knees and make me cry, but was something I could handle, but that… that…

"Edward?" Alice asked, "What's the matter?"

"I don't think this is for me…" I said, quietly, "I don't think…"

"Let's finish looking around and if you still don't like it, we can go home? Yes?" Alice said, frowning as she clutched my elbow.

"Sure…" I said, uncertainly.

The next sight I saw wasn't any less shocking that the foot torture, to be honest. A young girl was suspended from a spider's web like metal and rubber contraption on the wall. She looked like a fly that had been trapped by a spider and was being driven half insane with a Hitachi wand on her clit whilst a violet wand was being run over her nipples and pussy lips by a woman dressed from head to toe in black PVC, including a gimp mask.

"Fucking hell…" Alice gasped out and dropping my hand, she walked forwards to stand and stare at the Dominatrix with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Okay… Alice obviously liked what she saw.

To top it off, the girl was being flogged from the side by a man dressed in a similar manner to the Dominatrix and her breasts, belly and upper thighs were latticed crimson and lavender.

Fuck…

As the girl, who I presumed was their submissive, jerked, screamed and twitched; I cringed just watching her, because it looked fucking painful the way that she convulsed every time the wand touched her clit. Once more, my cock and balls did their immediate disappearing act, until I saw the look of absolute delirium on her face.

Jesus.

She actually liked that level of pain… and at that thought, my shoulders relaxed a little.

Fuck.

When I looked around, I saw that Alice had moved onto another scene on the other side of me and was so close that she could have touched them if she had been allowed to.

Two girls were kissing passionately in the corner nearest to me as one fingered the other, and quite an audience of men were watching them as they writhed and moaned through their mutual arousal. Alice was now rubbing her inner thighs together as she put her hand inside her shorts, almost absentmindedly. Her tongue was poking out and a light sheen of sweat was now covering her pale skin. Several others were masturbating at the girls and their fucking hot display, although they, themselves, seemed to be blissfully unaware of their audience.

Alice parted her legs and her arm started to move as she joined in with the others and their need for release. So much for being shy and nervous…

The sounds and smells of the club were so erotic that I could feel a trickle of sweat run along my spine once more and I shuddered in desire as it trickled down between into the crack of my arse cheeks.

"I'm not doing anything, Edward," Alice said, "I'm really not. I just want to have a good look around and then leave. Okay?"

"Yes…" I muttered, unable to vocalise anything else.

Despite the fact that I'd masturbated an hour before I left home, the throb and ache in my cock and balls was so intense, that you would think that I hadn't cum in months, and I surrupticiously looked from left to right before I slide my hand downwards and squeezed my erection.

"Don't try to be sneaky, Edward," Alice said as she turned around and grinned at me, staring at my cock as she did so, "Everyone seems to be in the same position!" she continued as she pointed to two, frantically masturbating, sweaty, middle aged men, standing near us and continued playing with herself. "Whip it out and enjoy it! God it feels so good…" she groaned as her hand moved faster.

"Whip it out?" I said, slightly stunned at her suddenly cavalier manner, "Are you nuts? Whip it out? You said you weren't going to join in because you would be too scared! Alice! You're masturbating? In front of all these people? And me? What the fuck has got into you?"

"Nothing… yet…" she said, grinning as she pulled her hand out of her shorts and wiped her fingers on her bare mid-drift. Being the whore that I am, I had to fight the urge to drop and lick her clean. I love doing that and I love the taste of a woman's arousal but…

I didn't, but I had to close my eyes and force the thickened saliva down my throat as I fought with myself internally.

"Are you okay, Edward?" Alice asked, sounding concerned as her still damp fingers gripped my upper arm.

"Move your hand, Alice!" I hissed out, "That isn't fucking helping!" I said, pointing to her glistening fingers.

"Oooh, Mr Cullen!" she giggled, "You are having a tough time with me tonight, aren't you sweetie? Poor baby, do you want me to ask someone to help you out?"

"No, I fucking well don't!" I yelped, glowering at her as she laughed at my predicament.

Guiding us away as quickly as possible, to prevent us from being sprayed by their jizz when they came, and by the grunts and groans that they were escaping their mouths, that was going to happen imminently.

The next room had a large, beautiful black man straddling the shoulders of an equally beautiful mixed race, much younger man lying on a padded table. His cock was buried balls deep in the bottom's throat and he held his hair tightly, forcing his head up off of the table whilst he languidly and calmly fucked his mouth. He brought his glistening, almost jet black, massive cock all the way out of the other man's mouth, before plunging into all the way back down his submissive's willing throat once more. He continued to fuck his mouth at an agonisingly slow pace, whilst the bottom's pelvis frantically jerked and strained as his cock tried, and failed, to find some sort of friction.

Without warning, a short, middle-aged dumpy white man and a small, curvy, pretty, dark haired woman joined them. After slapping and tapping the bottom's legs, cock and abdomen firmly, the man stood at the head of the table, grabbed the submissive's hair and yanked his head back at an angle, before shoved his cock into the top's mouth.

Now, this was yet another encounter I had experienced, in all three positions, and my cock started to bash against the fly of my jeans as the memory of how it had felt flooded through my lust addled brain.

Alice groaned loudly as she once more shoved her hand downwards and her fingers moved faster inside of her shorts as she watched as the woman climb on top of the bottom, facing away from the man sitting astride his face, back to back, and kneeling upright, she slid a bright green condom down his erection, before she parted her pussy lips with one hand and impaled herself onto his granite hard cock, without even handling him first, and began fucking him in the reverse cowgirl position, bouncing up and down rapidly.

Locking eyes with me, she grinned brightly, before she flicked her black wavy hair out of her eyes, and began to tweak and pull her pierced nipples firmly, as I ran my long, slightly shaking fingers through my unruly mop of hair, as I always do when I'm stressed, aroused or nervous.

Holy hell.

My cock was suddenly harder than ever.

"Have you done anything like that?" Alice whispered.

"Yes…" I said out of the corner of my mouth.

"Which part?"

"All of it."

"Which is the best bit?" she asked.

"All of it…" I groaned as I tried to make my cock behave as my balls throbbed.

"Do you still want to go home?" she said as she pulled her hand out of her shorts again.

"God no…" I said as I grabbed her wrist and stared at her sticky fingers. "Shit, Alice… that's…"

"I think it's quite nice here after all, isn't it?" she asked, grinning brightly at me as we watched the foursome writhe, thrash and fuck their way towards orgasm.

"Yes," I said simply, smiling back at her. Nodding my assent, I won over the urge to suck her fingers clean and dropped her hand. If I tasted her, I just knew that I wouldn't be able to control myself and I most definitely wasn't going to be the one to take her virginity on a whim. "Yes, it is nice. Very nice, in fact."

"Were you interested in joining in in some way this evening, or do you just want to watch?" a voice from behind me queried, and as I turned around, I came face to face with a tall, muscular, fair haired man.

He was very handsome and, if I were to hazard a guess, in his mid-thirties. He was dressed in black jeans and a soft looking, slightly floppy white shirt with the top three buttons undone, showing fair chest hair, and the sleeves rolled up revealing the equally blond hair on his forearms

"We're just interested in watching at the moment, thank you," Alice said, smiling happily at him, "It's our first time here, so we want to take it slowly tonight. But who knows what we will do later on, Mr… er?" she said as she removed her hand from inside of her shorts.

"Carlisle," the man replied in crisp clipped upper class tones that vied with mine for pomposity, "Doctor Carlisle Hale, at your service, Miss, um?" he continued, smiling as he dipped his head to her.

As she held her hand out, she raised her chin defiantly, "Well, good evening to you, DOCTOR Hale," Alice replied, smiling and cocking an eyebrow at me as I stared at this good looking man, unabashed and felt the stirring of need in my balls. She knew he was staring at me and that I was doing the same and found it quite funny. "Alice. My name is Alice Elliott."

Carlisle shook her hand politely, but the entire time, his eyes were fixed intently and unsmilingly on my face.

"And you are?" he asked, quietly as he devoured my body visually, from the toes of my doc martins, all the way up to the top of my head and back down again. His eyes lingered on my crotch before they travelled up to my eyes again, and as we locked eyes for the first time, I gave him my most dazzling, mega-watt smile.

Looking him up and down in turn, I smirked when I spied the large, hard bulge in the front of his trousers that in turn caused my fingers to flex in their frustration to get at the treasure hidden from view by the cursed denim.

My ability to arouse didn't seem to ever diminish—thank fuck! My body responded at the thought that it might just get its fuck tonight after all…

As I levelled my eyes to his face once more, I stared unblinkingly into the clearest, brightest blue eyes that I'd ever seen. I'd always thought that Rose had the loveliest shade of blue around her pupils, but they paled into dull insignificance compared to Carlisle Hale's shocking Swiss sky blue.

A shudder of desire ran through my body and I could feel sweat prickling my flesh, my cock twitching firmly against my zip as he licked his lips and smiled at me, revealing dazzlingly white teeth.

The sounds of moaning, groaning, orgasmic cries, and the thwacking of wood and leather hitting naked flesh, distracted me briefly, and scowling, I looked over his shoulder just in time to see a dominant peeing in a submissives mouth. Yeah. That's something I think I'll give a miss!

"Well?" Carlisle asked again.

"Me?" I said, grinning as I turned back to give him my full attention once more. "I'm Edward Cullen, Carlisle, and it's _very _nice to meet you," I finished, leaning forwards and shaking his hand firmly.

We stared at one another for the longest moment until a cough from behind me, made me turn around and let go of his still gripping fingers.

"You don't have to take part in a scene to get some sort of, um… _relief, _you know, Edward," he said as his eyes fell downwards to my cock. "I'm sure that the two of you could easily find whatever it is that you're looking for this evening," he said before he held his hand out to the tall, slender woman who was standing, smiling, with her waist long chocolate brown hair draped over one shoulder and a bulging patchwork bag hung on the other one.

She was dressed from head to toe in a crocheted union jack patterned cat suit, with a fetching, vibrant, Lurex sparkle throughout and looked more than slightly odd to be honest...

It didn't help that it was full of lots of holes.

Oh dear.

I don't know if they were _intentional _holes…or if she was just shit at handicrafts…but it left absolutely nothing to the imagination and her nipples poked through the centre of two of the flags.

Shit.

"Hello, love," she said in a broad north of England accent, "Found yourself a shiny, and very pretty new toy to play with, have you?" she sniggered, as she pulled a metal hook and some blood red wool out of her bag and began twiddling a long, thin rope of knots in the middle of the room, seemingly oblivious to all the goings on around us. "Can I join in, or are you feeling selfish today?

"Yes, my darling," Carlisle said, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek, as he stroked and then tweaked one of her nipples that protruded through the loose fabric of her highly individual, and very unusual, outfit, "I am happy to share tonight. He's very pretty, isn't he? Very lovely…"

In her thigh high bright red patent leather boots, she was as tall as me and several inches taller than Carlisle. She wasn't elegant it had to be said, and stomped around on the aforementioned high heels like Bambi on ice, but she had a pretty, smiling, open and kind face and when she grinned, she had naughtily twinkling pale golden eyes and dimpled cheeks.

"Edward, Alice," Carlisle said, grinning, as he waved his hand towards the woman standing ungainly in front of him. "This ravishing creature is my wife, Katy."

His wife…

Fuck.

I'd been sure he was gay and was giving me the come on. Fuck it. I squirmed uncomfortably at the thought that now I was free from Riley, Douglas and Jacinta, that I was losing my touch and my appeal.

My face must have visibly fallen—I'd felt it myself—and both Carlisle and his wife chuckled at the change in my demeanour as she stepped forwards and wrapped her arms possessively around his waist from behind. "Something the matter, Master Cullen?" Carlisle said, smiling once more.

"Um, no," I said, sulkily, as I shook my head. "Everything's fine. Just great in fact." Turning to Alice, I tried to smile at her worried face and kissed her on the forehead, "Don't look so worried fairy face! I'm fine, and I'll be right back," I continued, before I excused myself and shuffled off, feeling more than a little bit rejected and even dejected as I headed towards the lavatory.

Plonking down on the toilet with my jeans around my ankles, I dropped my head in my hands and sighed.

Obviously the '_Edward Cullen'_ effect wasn't working tonight. No-one had even looked my way since we'd entered the premises and an unusual and uncomfortable feeling of loss of control washed over me. Inhaling sharply, I screwed my eyes up and decided to leave. I couldn't handle this feeling, and I suddenly I knew exactly how Rosalie had felt when I'd walked away from her.

I didn't like it…

Rose deserved it, of course she did and no doubt I did too with the way that I had treated other people I'd fucked over the years.

Guilt wound its way around my heart and dripped in icy drops into my stomach. Shaking my head, I looked up at the locked door and sighed. I couldn't afford to allow myself to feel guilty because I didn't do emotion, did I?

No, I didn't.

Swallowing thickly, I remembered the look of bewilderment on her face when I pulled my fingers out of her quivering body and turned to walk away.

I'd made her cum and allowed her to think that something else would happen between us. But I'd laughed and had then left her behind, very obviously feeling hurt and bewildered in the process. Like me, she was used to having everyone at her beck and call and falling under her alluring, sexual spell. She was as sexually predatory as me and very promiscuous yet when I refused to make love to her, she was devastated and confused.

I knew now exactly what a bastard I'd been to her.

"I would like to clarify something, Mr Cullen," a voice said from outside of my cubicle, making me jump as it shook me out of my maudlin thoughts. "Before you walk out of the main doors without looking back, I would like to clear up a few things. I'm sure you don't know this yet, being new to the lifestyle and all that, but I'm a Dominant."

Oh.

"A dominant, Mr Cullen, who, although VERY happily married to the most wonderful woman in the world for the last twelve years, likes to play with both men and other women," he said quietly.

"Um…okay…" I murmur. Both men AND women?

Hmmm… so I wasn't entirely wrong, was I?

"Yes, Edward. Oh." He said. "I love to touch a man's body every bit as much, if not more, than a woman's. And, Katy and I are—how should I say—_BETWEEN_ male submissives right now. We have just started to train a new girl, Annabelle, who's aged eighteen and very lovely. Very lovely indeed. Tonight is her first time out in public. We've been training her for a couple of months now and when she came to us, she had absolutely no experience, but I'm very eager to begin initiating her into the more public aspect of our world. I'm also very keen to have a male submissive to train at the same time," he said quietly, "I need a male submissive… so does my wife," he finished quietly. So quietly, that I had to strain to hear him properly through the closed door, "We need a male submissive who is young, strong, healthy and able to handle both Katy and I. We are kind and fair, but very demanding, Edward. Voracious even. We both expect to have our every whim indulged and I have a feeling that Annabelle is going to be as insatiable as we are… so the male submissive we are looking for would need to be able to satisfy three VERY demanding people and their individual needs and wants…"

Fuck.

"Did you know that Katy was a Dominatrix and I was a Dominant?" he asked.

"Right," I said, before I stood and yanked my jeans up to mid-thigh. My heart began to pound on hearing his words. "No, I didn't know that," I finished, and as I opened the door, I began pulling my jeans all the way up, leaving my suddenly rock hard, leaking cock hanging out of the opening. Carlisle grumbled to himself as he stared at my crotch.

Right.

I grabbed hold of my cock and shoved it down inside the denim before he could see it properly, but I knew that my bronze cropped pubic hair was still visible as I began doing my jeans up, and smiled, as he flushed and licked his lips.

"My wife isn't bisexual you see, she won't touch the female submissives," he continued, sounding flustered, as I ignored him, and he began following me as I walked to the sink.

"Right," I said, sounding reasonably disinterested. "Okay."

"She only helps to sexually train our male submissives, though she happily teaches both genders the delights of impact play. Don't you think it would unfair for me to have a '_nice, shiny new toy'_ as she calls our playmates and students, and not have any fun herself?" he asked, staring at me in the mirror. I deliberately didn't make eye contact as I washed my hands thoroughly, but I could see him through my peripheral vision. He was staring at me and was flushed a deep shade of pink.

"Well, that makes sense; it would be boring for her otherwise, wouldn't it?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Do you know anyone who might be interested in being trained by both a male and female Dominant? Someone young, fresh and willing to be moulded to suit my every need and to fulfil my wife's, and my, every whim? Not to mention playing with a female submissive?" he finished, quietly, looking up into my eyes.

Did I?

Did I want that?

Why not?

I thought, absently, that I'd done pretty much everything else, how different could this be?

Huh?

What the hell.

I came here for something new and exciting, didn't I? And this would certainly be different; this would be my first time with two women and one man. So why not?

Folding my arms across my chest, I grinned at him, stared into his eyes in the mirror and said, "You know what, Doctor Hale, I think I just might have someone in mind… someone who has the strength, stamina, will power and open mind to indulge your every whim…"

Leaning forwards, he trailed one long, perfectly manicured, finger along the light scruff on my jaw, "And who might that be, Edward?" he whispered, staring into my eyes and making my cock jerk as he did so. "Who is physically and mentally strong enough to handle three wilful people and come out of it unscathed?"

"Me," I said, staring right back at me, "Me, _SIR," _I said, without hesitation, "Me. I want to be trained how to submit. And I want to be trained by you and your lovely wife."

After inhaling a suddenly shaky breath, he pulled back and look at me again, "Really?" he asked, smiling at me, "You would really like to have a trial session with Katy and I?" he said, brightly.

"Yes, I would," I finished with a firm nod, before I moved a little and pumped the liquid soap into my hand once again. I might have looked calm, but I really wasn't and I needed something to focus on, other than my desperate cock that was strangling itself in my underwear.

"You do know what being a male submissive entails, don't you, Edward?" he said, hovering so close behind me that I could feel his hot breath fanning my neck, as I turned the taps on and washed my hands with deliberate slowness, wringing my digits and mock wanking my index finger as he watched my every movement intently, "Don't you?" he asked again our eyes locking in the illuminated mirror for the first time.

"Yes, of course I do," I explained quietly, "I've done my research, Carlisle," I finished, shaking the excess water off my hands before I turned the taps off again.

"Edward," he says, spinning me around and gripping me by my shoulders, tightly, "Are you aware that you would be fucked by both men and women? In the arse I mean? Not just by Katy and I? But by others who we would lend you out to? We are well known teachers in the lifestyle and our submissives are the talk of London. We only produce the very best. You would be required to perform in demonstrations with us, together and with anyone else we so deemed. It isn't for the faint of heart and you are so young… so fresh… so beautiful." He whispered. "Can you handle that?" he asked, frowning, "You're very young; you would have to suck cocks, Edward. As well as learning how to go down on women properly, and be fucked in the arse by both men and women in any and all combinations. Could you handle that?" He asked, looking mildly shocked, "I would want to share you with other Dominants and watch you perform with other submissives of my choice," he said, gripping my arms almost painfully hard, "other than Annabelle. And if you failed me and didn't live up to my exacting expectations, you would be punished severely. You understand all of this, don't you?"

"Yes, I do know that, Carlisle," I said, "And I've been fucked in the arse, by both men and women, and I've sucked plenty of cocks already, you know," I finished, smirking at the thought that I had got the upper hand, "And I've reciprocated. By that I mean I've fucked men and women in the arse too," I say, as I raise an eyebrow at him, "I love being fucked by men and women…almost as much as I love fucking them… I love anal sex and oral sex…" I finished, staring intently at him, "My preference is to actually be the one fucking both, but I have no objection to being fucked. In fact, I believe I'm pretty good at both giving and receiving."

"You've already… and you've… and… you… as well… as… and research… and receiving… and… fuck…" he said, letting go of me and stepped back slightly, as he flushed more than ever, "Are you gay, Edward? I thought you and Alice were an item? Aren't you? I thought that Alice was your girlfriend?" he said.

"No, I'm not gay," I said, truthfully, as I shook my head and pursed my lips, "I'm not gay but I like having sex with both genders." I continued.

"So you're bisexual?" he asked, nodding hopefully.

"Nope," I said with a pronounced pop, "I'm not gay, I'm not bisexual, and I don't know if I'm straight. I like girls best, I think, but I love sex and whoever wants to fuck me, or be fucked by me, is fine by me. I'm just me," I carried on, simply, shrugging, "No labels, I'm just Edward," I continued. "And Alice is a friend only, we've never fucked. She's simply a friend the same as I'm simple Edward," I explained.

Grinning at me, he turned me back to face the sink, and he chuckled, "Well, _'just Edward'_—that is a bit of a surprise, and I hope, if you really are serious about having a trial with me, and of course with my lovely Katy, that I get to _FUCK_ you," he said, seriously, pressing against me from behind once more, leaning his entire weight against my back, and causing pressure on my straining cock as it lay trapped between the denim and the vitreous china of the wash basin. "And who knows, one day, if you are a very good boy, I might just let you fuck me…" he continued.

Shuddering, I arched my arse backwards and rubbed my muscular backside against his erection as one hand slid across my cock lightly and the other wrapped across my chest.

All the while I stared at his face in the mirror, grinning broadly as his composure slipped and his mouth popped open in surprise as his fingers moved across my massive erection, sneaking their way all the way to the head.

"FUCKING HELL!" he gasped out, "How fucking big is your cock, boy?"

"Big enough to make you hiss, Dr Hale," I said, grinning.

As I pressed forwards into his hand, he yanked his fingers away, "You're a fucking tease, Edward Cullen," he said sharply, stepping backwards, "And I think I might just enjoy whipping you and your insolent little arse into place and teaching you who is boss when I fuck your mouth. And I hope to be doing it very soon. I will teach you how to deep throat me and I won't take no for an answer, little boy…" he said, as he smoothed his pale blonde hair down, trying to compose himself. He looked flushed and flustered as he stared at me firmly and I grinned and cocked an eyebrow at him.

Well, well, well.

It would seem I haven't lost my touch, after all.

"I already know how to deep throat, Doctor Hale," I said, dropping my head to the side and grinning at him coquettishly. "I love to take a cock all the way down, bury my nose in pubic hair and swallow until they shoot their load all the way down into my stomach. Do you like doing that, Sir?" I asked.

Shuddering against me, he gripped hold of one pectoral muscle and my balls firmly.

"You have no fucking idea how much I want to fuck you right now…" he groaned as his teeth grazed the shell of my ear lightly. "You are fucking delicious…"

"Well, why don't you?" I asked, opening my eyes wide.

"You are the most beautiful boy I've ever seen, Edward Cullen…" he said, quietly, as his fingers trailed along my hip, stopping millimetres from my frantically straining cock, teasingly. "But no, I won't do it now. It wouldn't be fair to my wife."

"I can't wait, DOCTOR Hale," I said, turning around, and leaning my arse against the sink once more, thrusting my pelvis forwards. "How about you go and ask your wife for permission and let me show you how good my oral skills are? Right now?"

His eyes dropped to my erection, widening in shock, and he shook his head, letting go of me quickly and stepped backwards.

"Oral skills? Fucking hell, Cullen… you are fucking dangerous…" he said, barely audibly. Pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, he stared at me and mopped his forehead quickly before he stalked out of the room, flushed and muttering to himself; slamming the door closed behind him.

Wow.

That was intense. The last time I'd experienced anything quite as intense as that was when Riley and I had our first encounter.

Splashing cold water onto my face, naked arms and neck, I strode confidently out of the rest room, after I'd readjusted my engorged erection. Wandering around, looking for Alice, and stopping to stare in amazement at the orgy of writhing bodies cavorting on everything surface in every room, I felt surprisingly relaxed and at home.

Fuck knows how many people had been allowed to attend but it was a seething mass of sweaty people and I felt tired just watching some of them as they battled to reach their orgasmic release in every grouping possible. Watching a daisy chain of ten people, I was amazed at the way they managed to coordinate their thrusting. It was tricky to manoeuvre when there were three or four of you, but this amount?

Wow.

Reaching a room that appeared to have a kitchen theme going on, I jerked to a breathless stand still, and stood and watched in stunned silence at my sweet little Alice.

She was sitting on her knees, on the hard, tiled floor, in front of the granite island, with her face buried in the crotch of the woman who had been riding the man in the midst of the foursome earlier. One of the woman's legs was draped over Alice's shoulder, her buttocks were resting against the work surface, and her hips moved in frantic jerking thrusts in time to Alice's ministrations.

Alice's forearm moved rhythmically as she fingered the Dominatrix at the same time as her tongue, lips and teeth worked on her pussy too.

Well, it would seem that I had been right on the Mistress front …and, despite what she had told Carlisle earlier, she was very obviously happy to participate without any semblance of embarrassment after all…

Shit.

Two men were walking about in white aprons, with holes cut out of them, exposing their erections. They had chef's hats perched on top of their heads, and were waving metals whisks and wooden spoons around, smacking the bare arses of everyone they passed. People were lying and draped all over the place covered in cream, butter icing and jam whilst it was licked off them by anyone who took a fancy to either that specific person or their particular embellishment.

Okay…

One Dominatrix was covered in an intricate pattern of icing. All sorts of symbols and sigils were piped on every inch of her body and FIVE submissives of both genders were licking and sucking her clean as she writhed away under their endeavours. The sounds of the young girl who was eating her pussy just about killed me, a combination of sloppy and slurping noises, along with appreciative hums made me want to hurl myself into the melee and join in.

My cock was now pressed so painfully against the metal zip and denim of my jeans that it felt like it was about to burst out of its skin. Turning around, I groaned loudly as I listened intently to the enthusiastic moaning and whimpering sounds that Alice was making as she ate a woman out for the first time. The Dominatrix grabbed her head and jerked frantically against her, bucking her pelvis rapidly until she gasped, turned an odd shade of red and shuddered.

Well, it would seem that Alice instinctively knew how to make an experienced woman orgasm with her mouth and hands.

The Dominatrix clamped here knees tightly around Alice's head and convulsed through the final vestiges of her orgasm as she bounced up and down, balancing precariously against the work surface and Alice's shoulders to get the frictions she needed. Gasping loudly, her mouth hung open, slack and silent, before she went limp and flopped back, releasing a heavily panting, inexperienced girl from her clutches.

"Holy fucking hell…" I grumbled as I watched Alice's fingers begin to move slowly in and out of the other woman's body once again. The angle that the Dominatrix had moved to meant that she was fully exposed to my hungry eyes. "Oh fuck…" I hissed out as my balls pulled up, threatening to humiliate me in public.

As she turned to see who was whimpering behind her, Alice grinned. Her face was dripping from her nose down to her chin with the woman's juices, and as she licked her lips she giggled, still fucking the woman with three of her fingers now. Her movements were languid but her face was flushed and her eyes were heavy and hooded in desire, and said, "Shannon tastes soooo fucking good, Edward! I can't believe I was too scared to try this before now! You should have told me how great women are to fuck! It's amazing! Why don't you come and have a little taste and see for yourself? Come and help me make her cum? She likes men too! Come on, come and have little bit of fun with me," she finished, holding her glistening hand out to me, as the woman looked at me and nodded enthusiastically in my direction.

"Join… join us, boy…" she panted, smiling.

Just as I went to move one of my feet, something touched my shoulder.

"Like what you see, Edward, do you?" Carlisle said, unexpectedly, from behind me, making me jump a little. I turned, still stunned, to nod in his direction, as he gently took my slender, cool hand in his equally large warm one.

"God yes…" I said, unable to say much more.

"Well, come and watch Katy and I perform with Amanda, our last submissive," he said, turning and pointing to a small, very pretty, girl standing close by us. "Amanda is a _very _naughty girl," he said, grinning at her brightly, "A very naughty girl indeed. Anything goes with her, I promise you. She has very few limits, to the point that we have to rein her in at times," he explained, trailing one long, slender, pale finger along and over her large, perfect left tit, "I think you might just enjoy this…"

"Show Edward how lovely you are, Amanda…" Carlisle said, smiling at her as he quirked an eyebrow.

She smiled and wiggled her hips a little bit as my eyes roamed her slender body.

"Yes, Master Carlisle," she said in a rich voice, far more erotic than I would have thought, for some bizarre and inexplicable reason, I thought she would have had a little girlie, squeaky voice like Alice.

Devouring her with my lust addled eyes, my hand instinctively dropped to my crotch and I palmed my rock hard cock. She had long, straight, blonde hair and the most perfectly round, pale pink tipped breasts that she thrust alluring out towards me. She was completely naked apart from a diamond studded heart that was stuck onto her bare pussy lips.

She was the most erotic and exotically arousing thing that I'd ever come across—other than Rosalie—and my fingers twitched to fuck her immediately.

Shit.

When she licked her full, crimson lips, my cock started to do the conga inside my jeans, and pressed painfully hard against my fly. At the same time, my balls began to tingle without my fingers trailing any lower.

As I shifted my stance in a feeble attempt to release the pressure on the head of my erection, Carlisle's eyes followed my movement, and he smirked, "You will be able to see what I can coax a body to do, Edward. Please come and watch and take time to consider our conversation. I want you to see what happens when I wield my impact implements and dildos. I promise you, you won't be disappointed, pretty boy…" he whispered as he leaned forward and shocked me rigid as he kissed me lightly on my open mouth.

Holy fuck.

I really wasn't expecting that…

As the electricity rocketed around my body, it hit my crotch like a firework exploding in my non-existent underpants as he leaned forwards and pressed his lips to mine once more. Pulling back a little bit, he poked his tongue out and trailed it along my bottom lip.

"Hmmm… I like that…" he murmured, staring into my eyes. I couldn't help myself. I shuffled a little closer and, without thinking, I grabbed the back of his head, yanked him forwards, and clamped my mouth onto his, shoving my tongue inside as I did so.

He reciprocated, grabbing my bicep with one hand, and the back of my neck with the other, he dug his fingers into my muscles so deeply that I almost cried out in pain. He held me close whilst he began sucking my tongue into his mouth firmly as he pressed against my mouth with such force that I thought my lips would bleed.

Lowering one hand, I whimpered as my fingers felt his remarkably muscular back for the first time. Sliding my grappling fingers through his wavy hair, I held him still, spread my thighs and tightly grabbed his arse cheek. As I dragged him forwards, I arched my back and began rubbing and pressing my crotch firmly against his as I did so.

He groaned loudly and thrust against me as we grappled and groped one another, kissing frantically as our erections rubbed up and down deliciously inside their respective denim versions of Alcatraz. The inside of our jeans was going to be a horrific mess once we were done with this heavy petting session, but what the hell.

For the longest of times, we kissed and bumped against one another. Grabbing handfuls of one another tops, yanking them upwards as our nails scraped and tried to make purchase with each other's backs. Breathless, neither of us was willing to end the passionate embrace until a loud round of applause stopped us dead in our tracks, making us pull apart and step back from each other.

Looking around, I was stunned to see that we were loosely circled by a group of men and women who were watching our display intently, and slightly shocked by my actions, I swiped the back of my hands across my swollen mouth.

"And I say it again, _Master _Cullen," Carlisle said, as he mirrored my action and wiped the back of his hand across his saliva coated, dark pink puffy mouth, stepping backwards, taking another step away from me, "You are a fucking cock tease who needs beating into some sort of obedient shape," he said firmly. "Are you up to me doing that to you? Beating you into submission and moulding you into shape? Bending you to my will?"

Before I could answer that yes I fucking well would, we were once again interrupted.

"I think I might like helping you with that, darling," another voice said from beyond our circling admirers. Looking across the room, I gasped as I saw a young girl with a heavy curtain of waist length, blood red hair, on her hands and knees, with Katy leaning over her, placing a line of swan shaped folded linen napkins down her spine from neck to the beginning of her arse crease, grinning in our direction.

What the fuck?

"I bet his skin will look lovely after he's been given a thrashing, don't you, Carlisle?" she asked. "He's a natural red head, so he'll have a lovely lavender tinge here and there to his body; I bet the head of his cock is a similar shade before he gets aroused. I do hope you agree to us training you, Edward." She said, smiling.

Appreciative and interested murmurs broke out around us as Carlisle stroked my face, leaned forwards and kissed me gently on the lips again. Reaching down, I stroked the length of his trapped cock and he hissed as people began whispering at her actions and as her words echoed around that space.

Feeling as if I was something special pretty much for the first time in my life, I smiled back at her. "Is that so?" I said, grinning, before looking down at his cock and licking my lips, "And do you think that you will be able to do that to me, Mrs Hale?" I finished.

Carlisle grinned at me, nodding, and raised an eyebrow, "Oh, I guarantee that Katy and I will be able to do that, and can't fucking wait to do so, boy. Think about it as you watch what we are about to do and then give me a response. Okay?" he said, before he walked across the room towards his wife and the other female submissive.

His entire stance changed as he walked towards the two women. He suddenly seemed taller and broader as he straightened his back and he strode with longer steps—Amanda following two steps behind, on dangerously high scarlet heels, with her head lowered and her hands tightly clasped behind her back.

There was something strong, seductive and powerful about his demeanour and my cock almost removed itself from my body in its bid to get to its quarry.

Swallowing thickly, I turned my attention back to the scene before me. Katy had tied the red-headed submissive to a bench, still with the napkins balanced precariously down her back and I watched as she flexed and rolled her shoulders, waving two blood red floggers around.

Holy fuck…

Double flogging.

From what I had read, double flogging was like the Holy Grail of impact play and looking at her closely for the first time, I noticed that, despite being willowy and slender, she had well defined muscles, and especially biceps, that a weight lifter would envy.

Fuck…

Turning my attention to Carlisle, I watched in rapt fascination as he manacled Amanda's wrists to the heavy chains that hung from the ceiling, and after turning a handle several times, the chains shortened in loud, clanking rattles, and suspended her so that she could barely put the toes of her shoes on the wooden flooring.

Katy walked around slowly, looking her up and down before she trailed one of the floggers slowly over Carlisle's shoulders.

"Help me, please, darling," Carlisle asked.

Smiling, she placed her floggers onto a chair, before she dropped, surprisingly gracefully, onto her knees, and snapped a metal bar between Amanda's now widely spread feet, forcing her into an almost unnaturally wide position. She clasped the shiny metal cuffs around her ankles, before she gripped her calf muscle. "Hey, pretty, baby," Katy said gently, almost cooing, smiling up at Amanda and she trailed her fingers up towards her knees.

Shit…

Shuddering, I rotated my neck, making it crack loudly as the taut muscles and tendons were forced to relax. I wanted her to keep her fingers moving up towards her crotch but of course, Carlisle had said she didn't interact with the female submissives other than to indulge in impact play.

Katy moved back over to the prone submissive and whispered something in her ear before she stood up again and faced the crowd.

"Annabelle, this is your first session in public, but if you dislodge those swans, I will punish you. You've been trained how to angle your body to keep them in place and you will be punished if they fall off. Answer me if you understand me, please," she said firmly, to her inexperienced new ward.

Fuck.

"Yes, I understand you, Mistress," the girl's muffled voice said, so quietly that I had to strain to hear her.

A small, stunningly pretty, blonde woman, in the corner, caught my eye. She was dressed from head to toe in a black PVC all-in-one suit and had a large, fluffy—and frankly, unbelievably, real—cat, balanced around her neck precariously, fast asleep, as she waved a long black whip around. The cat was so enormous that he was almost as big as his mistress.

Okay.

Loud whimpering made me turn and I gasped in shock and I watched, transfixed as Amanda dropped her head backward as Carlisle attached viciously sharp looking clips to her engorged nipples.

"Hit her hard, Katy!" the blonde women barked, and her cat yawned disinterestedly. "Hurry up! I'm waiting to see how she handles it! I want to take part! Hurry up so I can see how hard she can go. Come on, Katy! You know I love impact play, come on, dear!"

"Yes, thank you, Lyndal," Katy responded, grinning brightly as she clambered to her feet, "I fucking well intend to hit her hard but you aren't taking part tonight. Tonight she's ours!"

Fuck…

"Are you ready for me to make you scream, Annabelle?" Carlisle asked. "To make your skin burn in agony?"

"Yes… Master!" she gasped.

Is there anyone that could be construed as 'normal' here?

Well, I guess by the very type of club that this was, the answer had to be a resounding, NO!

Appreciative murmurs ricocheted around the room as Katy began tapping Amanda's backside with splayed fingers, and Carlisle dropped to his knees in front of her and began to use a large vibrator against her bare lips.

She whimpered and whined as he pressed it firmly against her clitoris and she clenched her teeth as she screwed her eyes up tightly. "Is that nice, baby?" he murmured as he began pulsing it against her body. "Answer me. Thank me for touching you."

"It's… it's wonderful… Master…" she said, breathlessly. "Thank you… thank you for the honour… honour… of touching… touching my unworthy… body… please… please… give me more…" she panted out as she jerked her pelvis forwards.

My cock started acting like a battering ram against the front of my jeans in it's a bid to escape its cruel jail, and I grabbed my crotch to try and calm it down.

Carlisle stood up and walked back towards me, smiling, before he bent down, and kissed me gently on the lips again, yanking my fingers away from my painful cock as he did so. Staring at me, he whispered, "Don't do that, boy. I won't be able to give my submissives the attention they demand, need and deserve, if you keep touching yourself. So, please… stop… this is highly inappropriate… my behaviour, I mean. I'm finding it hard to resist fucking you right now…" he whispered again, as he trailed his wet tongue along my bottom lip. "I want you… right here… right now… tell me… tell me you want me too… tell me…"

"I fucking want you…" I groaned as I leaned forwards and stroked his cheek. "Fuck me now… right here, in front of everyone…"

"I want to suck your cock…" he said as his lips caressed my ear.

Whimpering on hearing his words, I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, pulled his face level with mine and touched his tongue with my own; our mouths wide open as we orally stroked one another. Clamping our mouths together once again, I wrapped one of my legs around his calf, yanked his crotch forwards and slid my pelvis up and down, masturbating myself against his body.

"Well, well, well, who would have fucking believed it…" a voice said, "Edward fucking Cullen…what the _FUCK_ are you doing here, with a stonking hard-on, kissing a fucking man, arse wipe?"

As I turned around, my blood froze in my veins and my heart stopped as I came face to face with none other than my erstwhile best friend, Jasper Whitlock…

Shit.

Oh my fucking God…

"Um…" I said as I dropped my arms and stepped back from Carlisle. My cock instantly softened and I dragged both hands through my hair and tugged it firmly as I always did when I was nervous. "Hey… um… oh… hello, Jasper."

For once in my life, I blushed profusely with extreme embarrassment and looked down at my laced up feet, completely lost for words.

"Why the hell are you here?" he asked, sounding stunned, and raising my eyes reluctantly, I looked at him properly for the first time. Inhaling sharply, it was my turn to be shocked by what I saw.

Kneeling on wide spread legs, Jasper was naked—totally bare bollock naked in fact – and was sporting a massive erection of his own, tied in place with a thin piece of crimson ribbon.

He had a black leather collar around his neck, with a lead attached to it and he had a black eye mask on as well.

He looked like a naked Tonto I'd been about to laugh loudly and ask him what the hell he was fucking up to, and where was the Lone Ranger, until I saw WHO was holding the lead.

A tall, voluptuous brunette, all but poured into a black PVC bra and hot pants, held the leather leash securely in one hand and yanked it firmly forwards, making his head jerk and his mouth let out a pained hiss.

"Did I give you fucking permission to speak, toy? Or to kneel? You will be seriously punished for this, boy!" she barked at him as she tugged the lead so hard that he almost fell over.

Looking down, he didn't respond, but he dropped forwards instantly, breathing heavily as he remained totally still and silent.

"Never interfere with someone else's possessions at these gatherings, young man!" she hissed at me. "Do you understand me?"

"Sorry…" I said, still stunned that my friend was a submissive, and fully trained by the looks of things. And, upon turning to glower at me, she'd yanked the lead again, before she had led him away, still on his hands and knees, across the room and out of my line of vision.

Fucking hell.

Well.

That had been totally unexpected and my breathing hitched as my brain didn't know how to percolate what the fuck had just happened.

So, my best friend was a submissive, just like Alice, and possibly me, was he?

Fucking hell…

That explained his regular absences I guess.

Katy was now stomping about on her high heels, walking with her legs slightly bowed, looking as if she has a horse wedged between her thighs, as she waved a massive, swan shaped vibrator around, in front of her husband, grinning.

She really was very odd and obviously had a thing about swans. That made my stomach roll a bit, I didn't like the way my brain was taking that…

Turning around to try and remove those unsavoury thoughts from my brain, I gasped and stepped back in shock as I looked at Jasper, who was now draped over a bench in the corner of the room. He wasn't shackled or tied down; rather he was holding onto the sides of it instead. The Dominatrix was smacking his bare arse cheeks, rapidly, and really hard, with a wooden paddle whilst he moaned and groaned and moved a little, revealing the base of a shiny, silver butt plug in the process. There was a shape cut out of the wood and his backside, thighs and pelvis were decorated with livid, raised red hearts.

SHIT!

Well, I now know he loves pain, and after seeing me snog Carlisle if he was in any doubts that I liked men before, I was pretty sure I'd dispelled that myth by the mere fact that I had been sucking on another man's tongue, groping him, as he had crawled up in front of me.

Fuck.

And I guess we both now know that we hadn't been spending as much together as before because of very different reasons than the ones we'd given one another. We should have been truthful to each other and stopped wasting time. Who knows, we could have helped teach each other things…

Hmmm.

We'd both lied, it would seem, wouldn't it?

Right.

Suddenly feeling unusually flustered, my breathing hitched in the realisation that the one constant and stable thing in my life, Jasper, was a very different being than the one I thought that I'd known.

Fuck it.

My heart sank and vomit rose in my throat as a horrid thought crystallised in my mind.

The Jasper that I'd thought I'd known and had loved like both a best friend and a family member, well he was a total figment of my imagination and that persona had left me… just like everyone else in my life always did.

Putting my hand over my mouth, I looked at him once more as he arched in ecstasy as the Mistress thwacked him so hard that the ricocheting crack of food on flesh resonated around the room and made me wince as I looked his dark purple red skin.

He was no longer my Jasper.

Turning on my heel, I ran out of the room, fighting to keep the pathetically child-like tears from spilling down my face, neither giving Alice or the fact that I looked like an idiot, a second thought.

Trying to get my words out in some sort of coherent order, I pointed at my things in the cloakroom and grabbed them with shaking fingers from the attendant. Just as I was about to leave, Carlisle walked up behind me and clutched my hand firmly, before he pressed his card into it.

"I have no idea what has upset you, Edward," he said, "But something has and if you want to talk to either myself or Katy, feel free to ring us any time, day or night. I wouldn't try to disturb your friend; Mistress Shannon is busily fucking her with a strap on against the oven, so please leave them alone. I will ensure she gets home safely. And if you really are interested in a trial, Mr Cullen," he said, staring at me, "My number is on the card…and I REALLY want a trial with you, just so that you know, pretty boy… as does my wife"

…**ooOoo….**

So there you have it.

My sexual history up to the point where I am about to place myself, mind and body, into the hands of another for the first time.

This is why I am standing, sweating bullets as I wait for the cab to arrive to take me to my trial evening with Carlisle and Katy Hale to see if I have what it takes to train to be their in-house submissive…

After the debacle at the BDSM club, I'd spent a difficult couple of days, percolating what had happened that evening. I felt both stunned and betrayed by Jasper, and as the days passed, I realised I was being ridiculous. I hadn't been exactly honest with him any more than he had been with me, had I?

Jasper and I had spoken the following day, and we were both nervous and uncomfortable at first. He rang me and after ten really strained, virtually silent minutes, he started to talk and at first, I listened with no response. It was a shock to learn that he classed himself as a bisexual submissive, and that he'd been having sex with both boys and girls since he was fifteen. He, strangely enough, wasn't surprised about the hidden life I had thought I had concealed so successfully.

Not at all in fact...

He was fascinated by the fact that I'd had an affair with my teacher and his girlfriend and wanted lots of details about what we'd done together. We met up a couple of days later, in his tree house, as usual, and discussed things thoroughly.

He had started having sex with boys before girls, a bit like me, and was always much happier receiving than giving whereas for me, I preferred giving, but liked getting as well. He loved that I was so completely and utterly open and adventurous about sex and he was a little surprised when I told him I now felt I didn't know him at all. He said that just because he hadn't told me about his sexual predilections, he hadn't exactly hidden what he was from me but he hadn't told me openly either. He said that when we had kissed that one night, he would have happily gone all the way but when he felt my reticence, he pulled back and pretended that it felt wrong. That shocked me.

"You would have fucked me?" I asked, stunned.

"No, I don't like fucking men. I like them fucking me. I love to be fucked… I would have let you blow me and then fuck me… as often as you wanted…" he almost whispered. "Does that shock you?" he asked.

"Yes, it does." I said, flatly, my head reeling at his declaration. A small pang of regret registered in my brain. "I wish you'd told me…"

"Does it mean you don't want to be friends with me anymore?" he asked, quietly.

"Don't be a fucking knob!" I said, as I punched him hard on the bicep.

We hugged and I briefly considered turning my face to his and giving him what he'd wanted, but didn't. I really wasn't tempted, and although he ran his hands up and down my back showing me that he was still willing, I didn't take the opportunity offered to me.

After we drank a couple of cans of warm cider, he asked what had gone on between Rose and me and when I told him, he laughed and said he couldn't believe that I'd managed to resist her wiles but said that it served her right for all her years of driving the three of us insane. He explained that his dominant was still his ex-school teacher; I was more than a bit surprised because they had been together for three years.

"Do you love her?" I asked, rubbing the furrow between my eyes in confusion, "Do you?"

"No. I don't love her. I'm fond of her, but I don't love her. I've been asked to try out with a dominant whilst she goes off on honeymoon." He said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Right.

When I asked if he knew I had been with men, he said he had suspected it but had said nothing as he didn't want to upset or embarrass me. I then asked if Rose and Emmett knew about him, he said that Rosie did, but Emmett had no idea.

In many ways it was a comfort to know that I wasn't quite as odd as I'd always feared, and that, in fact, in the BDSM culture, Jasper and I were totally normal and not unusual at all. He had discovered the world of BDSM when one of his school mistress's had bent him over her desk and beat him with a ruler when he had whistled at her. She could have lost her job if he'd complained about her but as soon as he jizzed his trousers mid-beating, she'd suspected what he was and started to train him. She used to fuck his arse when he was in detention at the end of the school day whilst her submissive sucked his cock.

Okay… at least we didn't actually do it in a classroom. Well… we did it in the gym… and the chapel… and the library… but still…

So we were both in relationships with our teachers when we were much too young really. That surprised me. What surprised me even more was when he said that her boyfriend was also her submissive and she had trained him, using her partner as a learning tool. He said he was fucked by them both regularly and that he wanted it, quite often more with him than with her. I understood that. I often felt that about Riley, although I still preferred to fuck a woman. When an experienced man gave you a blow job, little could compare with it. He told me that I should give the lifestyle a try and that if I didn't like it, I could walk away without a backward glance.

He asked me if I felt any differently about him now I knew and I said I wasn't sure to be honest. I still cared about him as a friend, but it felt strange that despite thinking we really knew one another, we obviously didn't. He sounded a little bit hurt, but said he understood and hoped we could get passed it.

So did I.

Once that difficult conversation was out of the way, I plucked up the courage to ring Carlisle Hale.

Carlisle had asked that I have lunch with both himself and Katy at her café just off of the King's Road, in Chelsea. She closed the café for a few hours and we sat around a small table, with various lists and documents spread out before us, discussing my past. Katy made us a salad and cold meat lunch, washed down with sparkling water and we ate, chatting quite cordially and relaxed as we discussed wants, needs and requirements. They were both thrilled, and a little shocked, at the level of sexual experience that I already had at such a young age. He was particularly pleased that I would only need certain areas of my sexual repertoire polishing up rather than having to be initiated into everything, because Katy was now spending more and more time with her napkin fetish and running her café. When he'd casually asked about the actual size of my appendage, he almost fell off of his chair in surprise and asked if he could see it to make sure I was telling him the truth.

Smiling, coquettishly, I refused and said all good things and all that jazz. He laughed, as did Katy and they both said I was a tease and they looked forward to seeing quite how far they could bend me as they trained me.

So did I…

I had hummed and hawed for days after the evening in the club, and again after our lunch time rendezvous, about what I should and shouldn't do. I researched more and sat in the library for hours reading up about different practices. After what I'd experienced with my various partners, sexually I knew there wasn't a great deal I wouldn't do with both genders, but I wasn't entirely sure about extreme pain. I did think, however, that I would have no way of gauging what I did and didn't want unless I tried it so, as such, I decided that if I did continue, I would try pretty much anything but cutting and tattooing, I knew I didn't want either of those.

Feeling totally conflicted about what I wanted, and needed, I'd even travelled to Ireland the following Friday. I spent a most enjoyable weekend fucking, and being fucked, by both Jacinta and Riley and discussing what I did or didn't want in my future.

They were delighted to have me there and showed me, repeatedly, how much they'd missed me. On the Friday evening, we fucked so much that my cock genuinely hurt. Riley was thrilled to have me there and couldn't stop touching me. Let me tell you, fucking a heavily pregnant woman from behind whilst holding onto her swollen belly and heavy tits, and having her now-husband watching, wanking, and giving encouragement, was a completely unique, and frankly fucking weird experience, even for me. I did enjoy it though and had done it to her before so I knew what to expect. When she sat on my face, she almost fucking suffocated me, but I still managed to make her cum with just my tongue and felt quite proud of the fact when her fluids had run all over my face and up my nose, almost drowning me in the process.

But I was more than a little bit terrified that she would go into labour with the power of her orgasmic contractions that I had managed to produce in her distended body and when she shrieked and clutched her tummy, I almost fainted in fear because I had no fucking idea what to do when a women gives birth.

They'd married two weeks earlier, in a very odd, but strangely nice, pagan hand-holding ceremony on a beach in Limerick, and I had attended, of course, as had Douglas.

Jacinta looked lovely, if somewhat inappropriate in a total transparent, gossamer thin dress and just a pair of knickers. Riley couldn't keep his hands off her belly and tits as the ceremony continued and people indulged in all sorts of petty sessions during the reception. It was great. I even got a blow job from the celebrant behind the greenhouse after the cake had been cut. It was a pretty good blow job too.

The reception was weird. Everyone danced and groped in their garden, and there was a huge pig roasting over a fire, enough to feed half the village. The food was great and the dope was better and the evening was really good fun and everyone took pictures when the bride gave the groom a blow job by the aforementioned fire.

Yeah. Not the most conventional of weddings or receptions, was it?

When everyone had finally left, the four of us spent their wedding night together in a most unusual manner. They had erected a yurt in the field behind their cottage and covered the floor with cushions, futon mattresses, pillows and quilts. Hurricane lanterns, swags of flowers and greenery, as well as strings of lights hung everywhere and it looked very pretty.

We spent the whole night, and most of the next day, fucking one another non-stop and Jacinta loved it when Riley and I both sucked her nipples at the same time, she came several times from that stimulation alone.

Douglas wasn't impressed and sat doing a crossword, muttering and glowering at us, moaning that he could have been in the library back in Oxford rather than watching '_disgusting het sex'_ and wasting his time. That is until we were finished fucking her with our fingers and tongues and turned around, grinning at him telling him that it was his turn now. He was very happy when he got to suck my cock as Riley fucked me from behind but was less happy when I let him blow me and Jace sat on my face.

Riley was thrilled that we were all there together once again because he was knackered. He said that Jace was more insatiable than ever and that he was happily sharing her with anyone who wanted to fuck her from their community right now because he couldn't keep up with her. I came seven times and she still wanted more. She was even begging Douglas to let her suck his cock because she needed more. He, of course refused, appalled.

After Riley had fucked her pussy and I'd fucked her mouth on the Sunday morning, she lay, sated briefly, panting and covered in sweat. She said it was a magical weekend, and that she had never felt the baby move about so much, so it was happy too. I didn't like to think too much about that. It seemed more than a bit pervy to me and then I shook my head, because after everything I'd indulged in and was planning on trying, I didn't have any right to judge any one. She smiled the entire time we were there, but there was one dark cloud on the horizon. Sadly for her, her parents hadn't managed to make the journey, and like me, just like that, she was an orphan, only hers had disowned her...

Poor Jacinta.

On the Sunday afternoon, we sat around the dining room table, eating left over pork and salad; I told them what I was planning on doing.

Jacinta was all for it, Riley less so and Douglas looked genuinely hurt that I was willing to even set foot in this world and become the property of a man when I wouldn't become part of an official relationship with him.

After having first discussed everything this trial session might entail with Jasper, and then with Jace and Riley, I decided to give it a go; after all, this level of depravity might just make my almost permanent, emotionless numbness disappear for a little while.

The day after my lunch with Carlisle and Katy, I rang Jasper and asked him to meet me. He was stunned that the Hale's wanted to train me themselves because their reputation preceded them in the community and they were pretty much the crème de la crème of perverted learning in north London. I wasn't surprised by that fact because I had seen the way they kept everyone enthralled and hanging on their every swat and word at the club.

After indulging in one more fuck on the ferry home from Ireland with Douglas in the toilets, I made my decision. I was tired of feeling 'nothing' now that my school days were ended and that Riley and Jace were a long way across the sea.

So, why the fuck not?

It wasn't as if I'd never had sex with a man or had threesomes before, so what was there to be frightened of?

The pain I guess, but then, I might just like it; I had liked what I'd experienced so far, so that was just a feeble ingrained weakness. The plain fact was, that I wanted excitement, thrills and new experiences, and this could give me all three, so why on earth was I even fucking questioning it? The BDSM world was steeped in cloak and dagger security, passwords and secrecy and Carlisle was a well-respected doctor, so he had to maintain a façade at all times too. This level of safety made me feel somewhat more relaxed knowing that my anonymity would be protected and so wouldn't damage my future legal career.

Excitement built exponentially at the thoughts of just what the fuck they might have planned for me formed in my head so, when I returned home very late of the Sunday night, I emailed the Hales and said that if they still wanted me, I was more than happy to take part in a trial with them at the earliest possible convenience.

We decided to meet for one evening, and if it was a successful trial, they wanted to extend it to an entire test weekend together.

Their list of stipulations arrived by return of email the next morning, bright and early, and hours before I even woke up. All they wanted was for me to have a haircut, a back, sac and crack waxing and to ensure that I had no facial stubble. I was to wear little or no cologne and it wasn't to be on my skin, and a small package arrived containing a medium sized butt plug and anal lube and I was to use it every day, and to have it in place when I arrived at their home.

The day before the allotted date, I went off to Harrod's beauty salon and did as they asked and had my encounter with the two beauticians. On the morning of the trial, I sauntered off and had a hot shave.

A tooting horn from outside makes me start slightly and leave my day dream world, and, grabbing my keys, phone, wallet and folder of limits and requirements, I dash outside, slamming the door behind me, readjusting my jeans as the plug rubs deliciously inside of me.

Giving the driver the address, I pull my sunglasses on, attempting to slow my breathing down and frantically try not to bounce up and down with excitement on the backseat as I stare out of the window like an excitable small child counting the trees as they zoom past the car, and looking at leafy London as it blurs. Every move makes the plug press against my prostate and I have to fight the urge to bite my lip and groan as the driver stares at me.

At last we pull into a quiet street, I unbuckle my belt and start to open the door before he even comes to a proper stop. Rummaging in my jean's pocket, I yank some money out and pay the driver, before I clamber out of the car with all the grace of road kill.

Breathlessly excited, I dash up the steps to Carlisle and Katy's large, four story house, as my heart almost pounds its way out of my chest with anticipation and excited nerves.

My poor cock is rock hard, straining against the hard denim and my balls feel like they are about to explode as my level of nervous arousal cranks up to an almost hysterical level.

I was supposed to abstain from any kind of release since I agreed to do this, and he still thought I hadn't broken the sex ban, but I would tell him the truth. I knew it meant a beating but I didn't want to start our journey together with any kind of untruth or lay hanging over our heads. I had decided, after I'd cum in Douglas's mouth that last time, that I wanted to take this seriously and owed both Carlisle and Katy that respect.

Before I can even knock, the door opens widely and a dazzlingly smiling Carlisle is standing before me, grinning and wearing leather trousers and a fitted black t-shirt.

"Well, good evening to you, beautiful!" he says brightly, looking me up and down, before he licks his lips, and holds his hand out for me to shake. "And may I say, well done for excellent time keeping. You're perfectly groomed as I requested too," he says looking me up and down and smiling appreciatively, "And you're on time, Edward, which is vital for me, as I explained in the café. Mmmmm. You look and smell delicious," he chuckles looking at my flushed complexion as he leans closer and kisses me gently on the cheek. No man had ever done that to me so publicly before apart from at the wedding.

Instead of shaking my hand, he clasps it almost painfully tightly in his and yanks me closer to him, so close that our bodies are flush.

His fingers are cool and firm and I shudder when I think about what they will be doing to me before this night is over.

Blushing more, and looking down at my brand new black trainers, I shuffle about, trying to ease the pressure on my poor, agonised cock as Carlisle strokes his thumb along and over my palm firmly.

"Please come inside, Edward," he says, quietly, before he whispers against the side of my head, "I can't wait to fuck you any longer, you delicious boy," he continues, waving me inside.

Shit.

As I cross the threshold into a large, white painted hallway, he continues, "So, Edward Cullen, I guess there is only one question left to ask you, baby boy," he says as I cross over the threshold, somehow a symbolic act of leaving my old life behind me, and embracing my new, dangerously exciting one. "Are you ready for us?"

…**...ooOoo…..**

**DUH DUH DUUUUUUH!**

**Next Chapter, we will begin learning about Edward's life as Carlisle and Katy's, frankly crap and lousy submissive, before he starts to train as a dominant. **

**For the first time in his life, he will struggle with something as he discovers that he isn't a natural born submissive. **

**More soon and sorry about such a long delay!**

…**ooOoo…..**

**I FOUND THIS ONLINE AND I FOUND IT QUITE INTERESTING!**

_**There are submissives who are pets, some who are slaves, others who, like you've read recently, are **__**hunt sluts for their owners**__**. Today I'm going to talk about another form of submissive; one who I think might appear to have their roles crossed.**_

_**I'm talking about the submissive who tops their Dominant. This has nothing to do with topping from the bottom. This is an agreed upon role that the submissive top their owner during play. It's not as uncommon as you might think that a Dominant could be masochistic and need a sadist to satisfy their needs. It's also very common that submissives might have or develop a sadistic streak. This pairing could blossom into a healthy service dynamic for the couple.**_

_**So, what is topping again? Topping, in this context is any sexual, sensual or play activities that the submissive performs as the top role to the Dominant. It could be bondage, CBT (cock and ball torture), spanking or other forms of pain play. It could be sexual denial or erotic oversensitivity. Anything that a sadist can come up with and a masochist will receive.**_

_**The myth that Dominants can't possibly be masochist is one that needs to be understood. Sadism and masochism are separate from Dominance and submission. They are, in fact, wired directly to your sexual personality and not your mental personality. That is why sadism and masochism can exist without elements of D/s. It's purely the physical kink that many of us enjoy.**_

_**I know a Dominant that has difficulty finding partners because she not only wants a submissive, but also a sadist. She wants someone that she can direct to flog her correctly, or tie her breasts painfully tight. If she wants to be struck harder, she expects that the submissive would obey. Submissives that are willing to learn the activities of a sadist (and one thought to be Dominant-acquired only) are rare.**_

_**Now think about what impression you would have of someone if you saw them tied to the cross and being flogged but at the same time, they were directing the whole scene almost blow by blow? What would you think of the person administering the flogging if they quietly and calmly obeyed the commands of the floggee? Would you think that they weren't quite Dominant or that the one on the cross wasn't a good submissive? Well you'd be right. For this example, the Dominant is the floggee and the submissive is applying the flogger. For them, this works and is just as exciting as the other way around. Passing judgement can fog your perception of what may really be going on.**_

_**On occasion I am requested to top my Master. It is part of what makes our relationship unique. It has also not come easy for me because I had some of the same perceptions as I described earlier. I thought that if I topped my Master that I wouldn't be submissive or that he would lose his Dominance. This has not happened. It has just broadened my skill set and value for my Master. He knows that if the itch needs to be scratched that I can serve as his sadist until the need subsides. This does not make him any less my Owner and me less of a submissive.**_

_**Accepting my place required a lot of inner reflection and development of my understanding in what sadism and masochism is and how, as I've described above, they are completely separate from our dynamic roles. There are still times that I get caught in my own web of confusion and Master is right there helping through it. How can a submissive top? How can the Dominant really enjoy it? These are but a few of the questions that kept going through my head. Thankfully I serve him a lot better than I did in the past and have found that I enjoy these moments myself.**_

_**Ultimately, this means that you have to learn how to do the activities requested of you safely and well. I've taken to reading about what my Master likes and learning the safety aspects as well as ways to enhance the play time when he requests it. I revel in my new learning and embrace the chance to broaden my skill set. This is a service I never thought I would be providing.**_


	8. Chapter 8

**HELLO AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

**I'm really pleased you all enjoyed his last chapter. I was terribly nervous about re-posting it but you all seemed very happy so thank you very much for your kind words and online hugs. Mwah x**

**Now, this chapter might NOT be what you're expecting. Remember, this is EDWARD. It isn't ISABELLA'S POV. It won't be all hearts and flowers, it will follow its own course of events and as ever, sort of write itself, so be nice. It will sometimes be angsty, sometimes funny and sometimes downright filth so just go with it and it will cause a hell of a lot less stress for all of us!**

**This story is BDSM and includes every sexual predilection and vagary possible so if you are under 18, go away and read something T rated. Everything is consensual and even when it appears abusive, it ISN'T! It's by prior consent so there! Edward was NEGLECTED mentally as a child but he was never abused and doesn't abuse others in turn. Please don't think this. He is searching for something, he just doesn't know it and won't until he claps eyes on Bella for the first time. Please remember all of this. This story is checked over by a Dominatrix for accuracy beforehand. I research, research, research every single detail to death to ensure that it doesn't become clichéd like so many other stories are, and although some of the participants may seem a wee bit odd (Katy, I'm looking at you), they are no stranger than people not involved in the lifestyle. The world is fool of oddities which, frankly, I think makes life far more interesting!**

**I don't own Twilight, the luscious Mrs S Meyer does. I do, however, own the personalities, places and original characters in my stories. Please don't translate, it doesn't work!**

**So, without any further ado, other than to thank the lovely Laura for weaving her selfless, lovely magic on my behalf, the girls and I proudly give you:**

…**..**

**FATHER FIGURE**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**FIRST SCENE**

"_**That's all I wanted, something special  
Something sacred in your eyes  
For just one moment, to be bold and naked at your side  
Sometimes I think that you'll never understand me  
Maybe this time is forever, say it can't be**_

That's all you wanted, something special  
Someone sacred in your life  
Just for one moment, to be warm and naked at my side  
Sometimes I think that you'll never understand me  
But something tells me together, we'd be happy

I will be your father figure  
(Oh, baby)  
Put your tiny hand in mine  
(I'd love to)  
I will be your preacher teacher  
(Be your daddy)  
Anything you have in mind  
(It would make me)

I will be your father figure  
(Very happy)  
I have had enough of crime  
(Please let me)  
I will be the one who loves you  
Till the end of time

That's all I wanted  
But sometimes love can be mistaken for a crime  
That's all I wanted, just to see my baby's blue eyes shine  
This time I think that my lover understands me  
If we have faith in each other then we can be strong

I will be your father figure  
Put your tiny hand in mine  
I will be your preacher teacher  
Anything you have in mind

I will be your father figure  
I have had enough of crime  
I will be the one who loves you  
Till the end of time

If you are the desert, I'll be the sea  
If you ever hunger, hunger for me  
Whatever you ask for, that's what I'll be

So when you remember the ones who have lied  
Who said that they cared  
But then laughed as you cried  
Beautiful darling, don't think of me

Because all I ever wanted  
It's in your eyes baby, baby  
And love can't lie, no  
(Greet me with the eyes of a child)

My love is always telling me so  
(Heaven is a kiss and a smile)  
Just hold on, hold on  
I won't let you go, my baby

I will be your father figure  
Put your tiny hand in mine  
I will be your preacher teacher  
Anything you have in mind

I will be your father figure  
I have had enough of crime  
So I am gonna love you  
Till the end of time

I will be your father  
I will be your preacher  
I'll be your daddy  
I will be the one who loves you  
Till the end of time."

…**.**

**Previously**

**Before I can even knock, the door opens widely and a dazzlingly smiling Carlisle is standing before me, grinning and wearing leather trousers and a fitted black t-shirt.**

"**Well, good evening to you, beautiful!" he says brightly, looking me up and down, before he licks his lips, and holds his hand out for me to shake. "And may I say, well done for excellent time keeping. You're perfectly groomed as I requested too," he says looking me up and down and smiling appreciatively, "And you're on time, Edward, which is vital for me, as I explained in the café. Mmmmm. You look and smell delicious," he chuckles looking at my flushed complexion as he leans closer and kisses me gently on the cheek. No man had ever done that to me so publicly before apart from at the wedding.**

**Instead of shaking my hand, he clasps it almost painfully tightly in his and yanks me closer to him, so close that our bodies are flush.**

**His fingers are cool and firm and I shudder when I think about what they will be doing to me before this night is over.**

**Blushing more, and looking down at my brand new black trainers, I shuffle about, trying to ease the pressure on my poor, agonised cock as Carlisle strokes his thumb along and over my palm firmly.**

"**Please come inside, Edward," he says, quietly, before he whispers against the side of my head, "I can't wait to fuck you any longer, you delicious boy," he continues, waving me inside. **

**Shit.**

**As I cross the threshold into a large, white painted hallway, he continues, "So, Edward Cullen, I guess there is only one question left to ask you, baby boy," he says as I cross over the threshold, somehow a symbolic act of leaving my old life behind me, and embracing my new, dangerously exciting one. "Are you ready for us?"**

…

"Oh yes," I say, smiling at him, "I'm ready for you, Sir."

Clasping my fingers more tightly in his, Carlisle lifts them to his face and rubs them along his cheek before he pulls them to his lips and kisses them gently in a surprisingly tender movement that feels strange.

Well that's a first.

Getting my hand kissed in public by a respectable, upright citizen—a doctor no less—whom also just so happens to be a man isn't exactly the norm for me. Riley used to suck our joint cum off my fingers all the time, and Jacinta's too after I'd fucked her to orgasm with my hand, but I don't ever remember him doing that to me. Not that I would have let him, you understand. Our relationship was friendship with sex; we weren't 'lovers' in the classical sense. We fucked one another into oblivion at times, but it was never romantic. Not on my part any way, though I of course knew that they all felt very differently towards me. No matter how hard I tried to force myself to feel something, I couldn't. And in many ways, it was better that way.

Scowling, I try to pull my hand away, I'm here to be fucked and, in turn, to fuck, not to play housey housey or for romantic hearts and flowers shit with this man. What the hell is he up to?

"Welcome to our home, Edward." He states as he grips me more tightly, refusing to let go of my fingers. He's far stronger than I had thought and as I scowl again, I try to yank my hand away. Smiling at me, he shakes his head and refuses to let go of me as he instead jerks me closer to him, making me wobble a little bit. Grinning, he takes my bag from me with one hand, still gripping my other tightly and smiles brightly as he kicks the door closed behind us.

"Thank you for inviting me here tonight," I say, smiling at him and try to shake the hand that he's still clasping so firmly that he's all but cutting the circulation in my fingers.

His stare is so deep and intense that it's almost too penetrating and unusually feeling my cheeks flame, I break eye contact and look down.

"You're blushing, Edward?" Carlisle asks, sounding slightly shocked. "I wasn't expecting that kind of reaction from you. I know how experienced you are sexually but I have to say, this slight innocence makes me want you even more than I did before! You look totally submissive when you look down like that… fuck… your eyelashes are so long… fuck! Let's get the show on the road, I can't wait any longer!" he exclaims.

Biting my bottom lip, I feel nerves of anticipation and excitement flutter around my stomach and feel my face get even hotter.

Ridiculous I know. He's going to be buried in one part of my willing body or another within the next couple of hours and here I am trying to keep up formal pleasantries.

"Oh, I think we can do better than that, boy, don't you?" he says barely above a whisper, licking his lips as his eyes fix on my mouth. "I want a better welcome than that one! Shaking my hand? Really? We've already kissed, Edward. Surely you remember that, don't you? I think by the size of the lump in the front of your jeans, it affected you the way it affected me, so I doubt you would have forgotten that encounter. Have you?"

Looking up at him, I smile and shake my head.

"We aren't about to become polite and distant acquaintances you know, Edward? You don't need to shake my hand in welcome… I would rather you touched other parts of me frankly. I'm about to dominate you completely… utterly… totally… I'm going to fuck you and test you in ways that even you won't know are possible. Are you ready for me to do that?"

Without saying anything for the longest minute, my eyes scan his face and inhaling deeply I nod. "Yes, Sir," I say, raising an eyebrow at the fact that he seems to have forgotten that his wife will also have unlimited access to my body. "I was ready the night I met you. And don't you mean am I ready for you both, Carlisle?"

"What?" he says, "Both?"

"Yes, both of you." I say.

"God, yes, of course! Katy! My wife! Jesus. What's the matter with me? You're quite right... of course you're quite right… that was rude… disrespectful… how could I forget my Katy? Shit… you… you…" he mutters, sounding flustered now as his thumb rubs small circles on the back of my hand.

"Oh… oh, that feels so good…" I groan as he turns his hand so that his fingers now caress the back of my hand and his thumb rotates on my palm, making soft, gentle patterns.

"Fuck but it's good to have you here with me at last…" he grumbles as he holds me at arms distance and looks me up and down, before he once more lifts our joined hands and slowly sucks my middle finger between his lips.

"Oh fuck…" I moan as his tongue laves along and around my first knuckle.

"You've kept me fucking waiting, boy… too long… I can't wait much longer… so beautiful… most beautiful… perfect… perfect…" he says as he raises our entwined fingers yet again, and brushes my face. "So soft… perfectly smooth. So lovely, you did as I asked. You did, didn't you? Are you smooth all over?"

"Yes, Sir, I did everything you asked of me. You'll soon see… well, I hope you will, anyway. And it's good to be here with you too… I've looked forward to tonight. Very much." I say, staring at him.

He's even better looking than I'd remembered. His blonde hair is perfectly brushed and he's clean shaven. His tight t-shirt highlights his perfect musculature and my cock twitches inside my jeans in need. His own jeans do little to hide the fact that he's excited about what tonight holds for us both either.

"I thought we would have a light supper together in the kitchen and discuss things before we continue. There are things we need to agree on and a less formal atmosphere works best, I find. What do you think? Is that acceptable to you, Edward?" he asks as I look around the large, plain white, almost clinical hallway.

"Yes, that sounds lovely…" I say as I continue doing a visual inventory.

Everything is white.

Absolutely everything.

Various shades of white, granted, but white nonetheless. The floor, walls, wood work and banisters are sparkling white. Simple, elegant, totally unembellished and plain. There's a white washed Gustavian grandfather clock at one end, between two doors, and a side table in the same wood, with a large, plain vase of white roses on top of it running in front of the staircase. A massive mirror, with a plain, bevelled glass edge, furnishes another wall, ricocheting the light around the space. Other than that, there is nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"Katy and Annabelle are waiting for us in the kitchen and we'll talk about what you should expect this evening, okay?" he says, sounding both breathless and excited.

"Yes, Sir, that sounds good," I say, not knowing what else to say to him. "I can't wait to get started…"

"God you look amazing…" he says, looking me up and down. As his eyes linger on my rock hard erection, I grin. "And I'm glad you're as pleased to see me as I am to see you, baby," he says, looking up at me and smiling. "Let me welcome you to our home…" he murmurs as he moves closer to me.

Smiling, I nod as his lips press lightly against mine as he shuffles me backwards until I'm flush against the wall.

God that felt good.

"Mmmm… so nice…" I murmur as I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and press my lips against his in turn.

Not very submissive, I know, but we haven't started yet, so I hope its fine.

Licking his bottom lip, he doesn't pull away so he obviously doesn't object to my forwardness and holds me closer.

"Can I kiss you properly, Edward?" he asks, "I know this isn't usual practice for a test night, but I've been very patient. We've kissed before and frankly, I just can't wait any longer… can I?"

"Yes, Sir," I say, licking my bottom lip, "I want you to kiss me… you can do whatever you want to me…"

"Whatever I want?" he asks, frowning slightly.

"Yes. Whatever you want…"

"Oh, little boy, you have no idea what you've just promised me…" he says as a bead of sweat trickles down the side of his face. "So many possibilities…"

Wrapping one arm around my neck, he tugs me closer and presses out mouths together once again. Sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, he trails his tongue along my tingling flesh and I whine loudly. Pulling back he looks at me without smiling before he once again leans closer, but this time, before our lips touch, he opens his mouth and pushes his tongue inside mine.

Fuck.

He smells of the same expensive cologne and clean skin as he did the last time we touched but the strong odour and taste of mint toothpaste or mouthwash is deliciously fresh and pungent as his tongue probes mine.

As his mouth moves down my jaw and he starts to suckle my neck, I shudder under his touch. Fuck this man knows how to kiss.

"Oh…" I groan as I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him tightly against my chest. "Sooooo good…"

Kissing his way back along the same path, he mashes his mouth firmly onto mine and we kiss frantically and passionately, the sounds of our increased breathing permeating the large space as our crotches rub firmly against one another's. I like that we're almost the same height… and fuck but he's right, there are so many possibilities of what tonight can hold.

Pulling back to look at me, he's flushed and slightly damp. "I think that maybe we should get the night started, Edward, before it ends right here, right now, up against the wall. Right now, I don't feel very dominant towards you, baby. I want to drop to my knees and suck your cock but I can't let myself do that. We need to begin in the correct manner and it isn't fair on the others if I give in to my these base urges. Don't you think? I've waited quite long enough… as have the others…"

"Yes, Sir," I say, smiling again.

"You're so beautiful… so fucking perfect. Do you have any idea how good looking you are, Edward? Do you?" he mutters as he trails his fingers from my forehead, over my nose and along my lips, to my chin. "So perfect… so pretty… the most beautiful boy I've ever seen…"

Ugh.

Here we go again.

Just for once, I wish my face wasn't the one thing that people focussed on. I've got a fucking good brain in my head and can hold my own in pretty much any conversation, but all anyone ever talks about is my "pretty face."

Sigh.

Dropping my bag at the bottom of the stairs, he continues holding my fingers and pulls me downstairs to the large dazzlingly white and stainless steel kitchen. "I know you're used to foursomes, but with two other men and one woman. So this will be all new to you, I think?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow at me.

"Yes, Sir," I say without any other comment in my attempt to be perfectly submissive.

The room is cool and functional but almost hospital like in its sanitary plainness. Everything is so sterile and spotlessly clean that it looks like an operating theatre. There isn't a sign of warmth, femininity and there isn't a touch of either of their strong, warm personalities. The highly polished white units, topped with white granite, don't even have handles. The work tops are totally bare; there isn't even a toaster or kettle on show. I expect to see a swizzle chair and sleek computer, and for this to be where Carlisle does his consulting.

"How do you like the house?" he asks, as he wraps his arm around my shoulders. It isn't lost on me that he hasn't broken physical contact with me since he opened the door to me and I squeeze his fingers firmly again.

"It's um…" I begin. "Very… um… clean?" I say, diplomatically. It's far too functional for me if I'm honest.

Carlisle burst out laughing. "Yes! It is! That's Annabelle for you! She hates mess of any kind! She drives us both nuts with her cleaning habits. We could have shares in a bleach company with the amount she uses! Are you tidy, Edward?" he asks.

"Yes, Sir. Yes I am."

"I think it must be part of our lifestyle in many ways, extremes in personality traits. Annabelle, you and I like tidiness, Katy likes clutter!" he laughs again. "You'll see what I mean as we move through the house. The kitchen and entrance ways are my responsibility. Other rooms aren't quite so… simply attired, shall we say? Katy's craft room is her own personal homage to macramé and all things wool!"

Thank God.

I was beginning to feel like I was in some sort of clinic and that Carlisle was going to experiment on me, which, in a way, he is. I guess…

As we continue to stand at the bottom of the stairs, a noise from another room makes me look up.

"You _will_ learn to do as I tell you, Annabelle!" a strongly accented voice says firmly. "If you drop that buggering napkin again, I'll paddle your arse until you bastarding learn your lesson! Quack if you understand me!"

Oh dear…

A sort of pathetically garbled squawk echoes around the space and someone whimpers.

"What was that?" I ask, confused.

"Don't worry about it. It's just Katy and Annabelle. Annabelle is struggling with her submission for some reason today and Katy is teaching her a lesson. She likes Annabelle to make bird noises." He says, smiling at me as he rubs his nose against the side of my hair. Distracted by this alluring man, the other two are immediately forgotten. Turning my face to his, I pucker up and just as our lips meet again, a loud squawking sound, like an artificial bird caller, breaks the silence, startling us apart.

Katy and her water fowl fixation once again…

"Better! You need to quack louder, girl!"

Looking at Carlisle and scowl. "Quack?"

Sighing, Carlisle runs his fingers through his hair and steps away a little bit. "Annabelle likes humiliation and Katy loves dishing it out. It isn't my thing so you're quite safe, boy. I neither need nor like humiliating my submissives, but be warned; Katy does, and is an expert at dishing it out. She obviously dropped one of my wife's carefully placed napkins. Added to that, Anna was naughty this morning and yelled at Katy when she stood on her foot. Katy doesn't do well at being shouted at, so remember that if you want to be able to sit down. No man could ever be able to spank you the way she does so if you don't want to be raw, watch your manners and for God's sake, don't drop a napkin."

Okay…

"Um, she makes her _quack_? Are you serious, Carlisle?" I ask, stunned. "I just… I've never… Christ… quacking? I don't think I can do that…" I say, frowning deeply.

"Don't give her any reason to force you to do it then, Edward," he says, far more coolly now. "She will be your Mistress, every bit as much as I'll be your Master, should we all decide to continue after tonight and sign the appropriate paperwork. And, as such, you _will_ be required to fulfil her every wish and whim, as much as you are mine. Do you understand what I'm saying to you, Edward?"

"Yes, Sir," I say, sensing the change in his demeanour. The colder timbre to his voice is more of a turn on than I would ever have thought possible and I squirm slightly inside my jeans. I want this to work so I really don't want to give him any reason to be pissed off with me. I want to get fucked and to fuck in return so bite my lip, smile sweetly and nod as I cock my head on the side, just the way I used to do to Riley and Jace when I wanted to get my own way.

"Fuck… your smile…" he says, as he trails his fingers over my jaw. "You light up a room when you smile, baby boy and just the thought of those pretty pink lips wrapping around my cock…" he says, his voice cracking with an emotion of some kind. Breathing more heavily now, I groan as he slides his hand down the column of my throat before he trails them up and over my bottom lip. Poking my tongue out, I carefully lick the tip of his finger and he gasps before his hand flies to my hair, gripping a large handful of my messy mop and yanks me forwards, pressing our mouths together again. Without being told that I can do it, I shove my hands under his arms, and wrap my forearms around his body. Holding him close, staring into his eyes, I slide my tongue along my bottom lip.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Carlisle…" I murmur as I lick around his lips and kiss him gently.

"Fucking little shit…" he grumbles as he slams me against the plain wall behind us and presses our crotches together once more. "I'm in charge. ME! Don't you fucking dare try to dominate me! I'm kissing YOU, boy," he says as he mashes our mouths together again.

Without thinking, I drop my hand I trace along the zipper seam of his jeans. Carlisle jerks and groans before he arches his pelvis and presses his cock into my hand as I yank handfulls of his top in my fingers, forcing us ever closer.

"Sing it! Do it now…" the gruff voice says, breaking the erotic spell that Carlisle and I have just woven and instinctively, I drop my hand and shuffle to the side a little, almost, but not quite, breaking physical contact between us.

"But, Mistress… please! Not tonight! _I don't want to!_ Please don't make me! I can hear voices… that boy is here isn't he? He is isn't he?" a whining voice says.

"That _boy_ is trying out to see if he's suitable to become our new submissive and someone you'll be playing with soon enough. Whether you like it or not. If you don't want to join in, safe word, we can cancel your contract, you agreed to being shared, didn't you? I don't see why you have a problem with Edward joining us. Stop being a baby, Anna, you can't be the centre of Carlisle's world forever, you know. So just get over it, girl!" she barks out.

Oh dear.

Someone isn't happy to be sharing attention, are they?

"Now, SING IT and sing it loud and proud!" she bellows making both Carlisle and I jerk as her booming voice bellows around the vacuous space.

"What's going on?" I ask Carlisle. "Why does your other submissive have a problem with me?"

"She's just not very good at sharing us yet, Edward," he explains. "She's struggling with the concept that we own her mind and body but we aren't in love with her. She has only just started training too and so it's all new to her. In many ways, she's far more inexperienced than you are. She finds it a difficult thing to comprehend that we can love her but not be IN love with her. She's a little bit of a spoiled madam and this is a good lesson for her to learn. She's a real Daddy's girl who is used to always having her own way and the upper hand. Don't let it worry you, she signed up for this and she has to learn her place. She's our submissive, pure and simple. She signed a contract to give us total control over her at pre-arranged times, and as such, our word is law and she does exactly what we say. If you agree to our rules tonight, you will be required to adhere to our every wish as well. You will be complete equals in your submission, but with different requirements and needs. You will be required to fuck all three of us and in turn be fucked by us all. Annabelle is only required to sexually satisfy me and you at our behest and to give Katy carte blanche over her body with impact toys. If you trust us and place yourself in our hands without question, we will take care of you, love you, and nurture you. In short, we will help you fulfil your full potential. And we WILL share you both with other Dominants, Dominatrix and submissives of both genders. You know this. Are you agreeable to this, Edward?"

"Of course…" I begin; I don't have any issues about being fucked by either sex, as long as I get to cum. I don't get to finish because Katy is now losing her patience rapidly.

"Right! This is my final telling!" the voice barks out.

Oh.

"_There once was an ugly duckling…"_

"LOUDER!" Katy yells out.

"_There once was an ugly duckling__  
with feathers all stubby and brown  
the other birds said in so many words__  
get out of town__  
Get out, get out, get out of town__  
And he went with a quack and a waddle and a quack__  
in a flurry of eiderdown_…"

"MORE… ANNABELLE!" she barks—or would that be squawks—out. "SING… IT ALL! ALL… OF IT, GIRL, DO… IT! OH GOD… CHRIST ON… A CRUMBLY… CRACKER… LOUDER… MORE… OHHHH… OHHH SOOOO GOOOOOOD…"

Scowling at a smiling Carlisle who is slowly shaking his head, looking highly entertained, I turn to look at the doorway again. He chuckles and holds me more tightly.

"_That poor little ugly duckling__  
Went wandering far and near__  
But at every place they said to his face__  
Now get out, get out, get out of here__  
And he went with a quack and a waddle and a quack__  
And a very unhappy tear__  
All through the wintertime he hid himself away__  
Ashamed to show his face, afraid of what others might say__  
All through the winter in his lonely clump of wheat__  
Till a flock of swans spied him there and very soon agreed__  
You're a very fine swan indeed!__  
A swan? Me a swan? Ah, go on!__  
And he said yes, you're a swan__  
Take a look at yourself in the lake and you'll see__  
and he looked, and he saw, and he said__  
I am a swan! _

_Wheeeeeeee!__  
I'm not such an ugly duckling__  
No feathers all stubby and brown__  
For in fact these birds in so many words said__  
The best in town, the best, the best__  
The best in town__  
Not a quack, not a quack, not a waddle or a quack__  
But a glide and a whistle and a snowy white back__  
And a head so noble and high__  
Say who's an ugly duckling?__  
Not I!__  
Not I!"__  
_

Silence.

Other than panting, there isn't another sound in the entire house, other than the sound of my heart pounding with adrenaline.

"Well… well done… well done… you're… a… a good girl… well done. Good… good girl…" a breathless sounding Katy says.

"Is she okay?" I ask Carlisle, concerned by her rasping wheezes. "What's the matter with her?"

"Oh yes, she's fine. Please don't worry about Katy, she finds any song about swans and ducks a turn on. She would've been masturbating on the edge of the work surface whilst Annabelle sang. That's why she needed her to sing the entire thing, she needs the full song to have enough time to cum. Don't be concerned about her, Edward, please. My wife knows what she wants and how to get it. One of your first lessons will be to learn that song verbatim and to learn how to fold her napkins into the shape of water birds.

Holy fuck.

What the hell have I let myself in for? She's even bloody odder than I first thought and looking up at a grinning Carlisle, I inhale sharply. "Um… right… I didn't know I would need to do that…" I mumble. "That's… er… well… to be honest… that's a bit stranger than even I was expecting, Carlisle. I'm not sure I'll be able to do that. I can't sing very well… I can play the piano and both acoustic and electric guitar, but my singing is a bit…"

"Didn't you just hear Annabelle?" he asks, cutting me off mid-sentence with his laughter. "She sings like someone's dragging their fingernails down a blackboard! Katy doesn't care how you sound, she just like songs about birds. She'll have you in sparkly hot pants and roller boots doing 'Disco Duck' if you aren't a good boy for her! If you're lucky, she might let you accompany Anna on the guitar rather than just singing."

"Why has she got a fixation with birds?" I ask, nervously.

"Her father ran the Barnes Wetlands Centre for years. I guess it came from staying with him there. She came down from the North East and visited him for her holidays. She started collecting feathers and it went on from there. Wait until you see the outfit she's designed for you to wear for her this weekend."

A sense of icy cold dread settles in my upper abdomen, and I wriggle uncomfortably.

"Oh. Right." I say, more confused than ever as I rub the crease between my eyebrows. "Does she only sing songs about birds?"

Shit.

I'd thought I was going to be naked for the entire weekend. What the fuck is she going to have me dressed up in?

Dammit.

This really isn't turning out the way I was expecting at all and I start to feel more nervous and uncomfortable than excited.

"Pretty much. You will be required to learn the name and habitats of every waterfowl and wading bird in Europe and to be able to recite them on demand. It's easier than it sounds. She gets very excited when a submissive can do that for her and can cum before you reach 'G' usually." He says, totally matter of factly. "Don't worry, Edward. You're a clever chap, you will manage to keep up with my wife, I'm sure you will."

Shit.

And I ask again, what the hell have I let myself in for?

"Come and present yourself to your new friend and our new shiny toy, Annabelle," Katy says, composing herself.

Feeling surprisingly nervous, I continue staring at the handsome man still semi-wrapped around me.

"Say hello, Edward," he says, giving me a gentle shove.

Nodding, I do as I'm told and turn around. The sight before me makes me snort loudly as I see what Annabelle is wearing and then my heart sinks when Carlisle's words about my own costume ring in my ears.

Fuck it all.

Annabelle is a good looking girl. Well, from what I remember she is. But today, she's virtually unrecognisable from the naked submissive I witnessed being so subservient at the BDSM club.

Her long blood red hair is plaited and twisted up on the top of her head. Like before, she's completely naked. But that's where the likeness ends. Today she is adorned with a pair of duck shaped flippers on her feet and duck's bill on her face. A headdress of yellow and creamy white feathers sits behind her bun, resembling a sun ray, and there is a matching one covering her pussy, and the look on her face, despite her lowered eyes, is mutinous.

She's tall and willowy with a tiny waist, narrow hips and small, almost flat boobs with pale russet coloured nipples.

"Shit…" I mutter as I purse my lips in a bid to keep quiet and fail as a whimpering squeak of derision escapes.

"Did you say something, boy?" Carlisle asks looking at me. "Did you laugh? Do we have to begin tonight with a punishment spanking or what? That's not what I want to do to you right now! Behave!" he finishes sounding appalled.

"Sorry, Sir," I say, fighting the urge to piss myself laughing as I look up at the fiery eyed red head who is now glowering at me, unabashed.

"ANNABELLE!" Carlisle yells, "LOOK DOWN! I did NOT tell you that you have permission to look at Edward. DID I?"

Oh dear…

"ANSWER ME!" he yells.

"Sorry, Master Carlisle." She says, surprisingly confidently and coolly despite the fact that she's in trouble and squaring her shoulders, she speaks clearly, unhindered by her oral decoration. "I apologise to you, _my_ Master, and to you, _my_ Mistress. Forgive my tardiness, it won't happen again. Sorry."

The intonation on the word '_my_' isn't lost on me.

"Now, Edward," Carlisle begins as he forces his disapproving eyes away from Annabelle. "You were saying?"

"I didn't mean to be disrespectful. I just wasn't expecting fancy dress. Sorry. But I think you should know something. I have to make a confession to you both anyway before we go any further. I broke your rules and I guess the night will begin with a punishment anyway." I finish, honestly.

"You broke our conditions?" Carlisle asks, sounding shocked. "Why in the name of God would you do that? Didn't we make our wishes plain enough to you? What the hell did you do? Are you deliberately trying to piss us off so that we either send you away or that Katy beats you within an inch of your life? I don't believe this! All out planning… all my hopes… everything is going up in smoke before my eyes… I… I… just… FUCK!"

"Sit down, Edward," Katy says firmly as she points to a white chair next to a dazzlingly white round table. "There's a good boy, do as you're told for Katy. Now, Carlisle," she says, turning her attention to her suddenly very flushed husband, "don't over react, love, let's all sit down and have a cup of tea and discuss this calmly. He's very young and completely inexperienced, and our conditions were quite strict for a hormone raddled eighteen year old, you know? Don't let your imagination run away with you. You know how you act first and think later, dear? Don't spoil everything by doing that now, okay?"

Thank God for the voice of reason.

"Yes. Thank you, Mistress," I say quietly, and hopefully respectfully, letting go of his hand at long last, and sit down. "I'm sorry, Sir. But as I was saying, you might need to punish me after all. I don't want to start things off between us based on an untruth; I want to be honest with you from the very beginning."

"Oh I won't be fucking punish you, boy! I can promise you that! You will wish it was me when you've experienced the wrath of my wife!" He says, looking smug. "My darling Katy doesn't like me to be disappointed or upset. And right now I'm both. I'm deeply disappointed in you and fucking pissed off to be honest! Katy! Deal with this boy for me!"

Shit.

"Hello, Edward," Katy says, leaning in and kissing me gently on the cheek.

She's dressed reasonably normally today. Well. Sort of. She's got a pair of skinny jeans on and a t-shirt that's covered in what looks like hand printed images of birds. Her long, dark hair is loose and sits below her waist, and she very obviously doesn't have a bra on. She is wearing no jewellery and has a pair of dark rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose. She doesn't look particularly scary. Tall, skinny and angular with the biggest hands I've ever seen, but she really doesn't look anything but kind and quite gentle. In fact, she looks a bit like a hippy librarian.

And then she flexes her fingers and as they crack, it sounds like bullets firing around the stark space and Annabelle instinctively winces as I turn to look at Carlisle. The colour even drains from his face at that sound.

Christ.

"How are you, love? It's lovely to see you again. I'm glad you decided to join our little family. Sit down. Please. Make yourself comfortable whilst Anna makes us all a lovely cuppa. Extra sugar for Edward, love, and don't forget the biscuits. The ones you made earlier would be nice, okay?" she says, nodding to the now kneeling, shuffling girl behind us.

"Oh," I begin, "I don't have sugar in tea or coffee. Actually, I don't like tea or coffee either… I usually stick to wat…" I begin before Katy cuts over me.

"You will have sugar today, love," she says, smiling. "Add four spoons to his cup; this boy is going to need stamina for tonight, Annabelle. He's got three of us to satisfy before the sun rises and you know how hard that's going to be. I've cum once already. In amongst that, I have some linen trials all ready for him. Why don't you two look at one another now, you might as well."

Nodding, I turn in my seat to look at the girl kneeling next to her—soon to be our—Mistress's chair. Annabelle's eyes look less angry now as she looks me up and down, and as I grin at her, they widen a little.

"Isn't he pretty, Anna?" Katy says, running her fingers through my hair gently.

Christ she's got big hands…

"He's beautiful actually, Katy," Carlisle says. "Look at him! He looks as if he's been carved out of alabaster! He's absolutely perfect!"

Bugger. Not again.

"Yes, dear," Katy says, nodding benignly at her husband. "Calm down. Let's get to the bottom of all of this silliness, shall we?"

"Yes, yes. Good idea. Let's do that. Yes. Good idea. Let's do that."

"Get on with it then, love," she says, sighing as she folds her arms across her chest.

"So, Edward," Carlisle says icily, as he turns his attention back to me, sitting down and lacing his fingers beneath his chin. "Please be so good as to tell us why you need to be punished. What did you do to break our rules so cavalierly?"

Nodding, I tell them as concisely as I can about needing to discuss my decision regarding meeting them with my three confidents. I explain that I'd had some doubts and second thoughts about putting myself in their hands—however capable—because it was something so new and different and that I was concerned that it could have some sort of impact on my chosen career if it ever got out that I got my jolly's having my arse fucked by a dominant. I continued that I had a long history with Jace, Riley and Douglas so they were the ones I felt most able to talk my concerns over with. I then said that I found it impossible to resist the heavily pregnant girl who pleaded with me so desperately to fuck her and to give her exhausted husband a rest because I had such a vibrant sexual history with her. I omitted that I'd been the one who had instigated giving Douglas a blow job whilst Riley fucked me.

Katy smiles and pats the back of my hand comfortingly. "Well, that sounds like it was a fun weekend for all involved," she says, smiling, "I understand entirely, love. Of course I do. I doubt any red blooded male would be able to resist that allure in any way, I imagine even my husband would find that particular scenario hard to walk away from, wouldn't you darling?" she asks and Carlisle looks at her with tight set lips and nods. "We would, of course, NEVER betray your confidence, Carlisle being a highly respected doctor means that we adhere to our secrecy guidelines more strictly than most. But rules are there for a reason and you'd already agreed with us that our terms were satisfactory to you. Sadly, you've disappointed my wonderful husband and made him angry. I don't allow that. No, let me rephrase that particular statement, Edward. I _won't_ allow that. He was expecting to find you desperate after an enforced month of celibacy, ready to play with you to see how far he could push you before you snapped under his exacting demands. So instead of getting fucked straight away tonight, boy, I will punish you. I'll spank you with my hand and nothing else and you won't make a sound other than to thank me after every slap. Eighteen in all, to match your age. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mistress Katy," I say, smiling because how painful can that be? Jacinta used to thwack my balls with a ruler and they would both swat my naked, sweat covered arse with a tree branch and I survived, so this is going to be a doddle.

A rustling sound makes me turn around and look down. Annabelle is on her knees, slithering along the floor, carrying a tray full of tea things with her awkwardly, wincing as she shuffles forwards.

"Annabelle answered me back this morning and will not be able to commune with you in our presence until tomorrow now, unless specifically ordered to do so. Watch closely and learn from her, Edward," Katy continues as she lifts the heavy looking tray from her submissive's hands, "If you misbehave, I will punish you severely. BDSM isn't all pleasure, my boy and this is something that I want to instil in you from day one. You are used to getting your own way, I can tell that already and that has to be thrashed out of you immediately. I like our submissives to be submissive in our presence, I don't require fire. Carlisle likes a little more spark than I do, but if you piss him off, you face my wrath so please bear that in mind. You can talk to Annabelle about all of this when you are in your rooms, but nowhere else. Okay?" she finishes, nodding.

"Yes, thank you for the full explanation, Mistress." I say, not knowing what else to say.

"Did Carlisle tell you that you would be eating a light supper in here with us this evening before we begin the trial?" she asks, pouring the tea.

"Yes. Yes he did." I say taking the chunky orange mug from her and scowling at the muddy brown liquid inside. It looks absolutely disgusting and as I take a sip, it tastes worse than it looks. Dark, acrid and sickly sweet.

"Go and fetch the meal please, Anna." Carlisle says as he begins heaping spoons of sugar into my cup and hands me a teaspoon.

More sugar? Shit. I'll have no teeth left at this rate!

As we sit and make small talk, and I struggle to force the foul tasting tea down and keep it down, Annabelle walks back in carrying a tray.

She kneels next to Katy's chair as the three of us tuck into a very tasty chicken salad and lowers her head as she clasps her knees and spreads her legs wide.

"May I ask a question?" I say as I watch Annabelle remain in position without even so much as moving a hair.

"Of course." Carlisle says, explaining that as long as I remain respectful, I can talk to them freely in the kitchen and my room.

"Why isn't your female submissive eating with us?" I ask, feeling somewhat uncomfortable at the way that she's being treated.

"She ate earlier," Katy says dismissively waving her hand in the silent girl's direction, "She's misbehaved today so her punishment is to be submissive even in her free spaces, to eat separately from us this evening and not to be allowed to orgasm unless we specifically allow it. If she does cum, she will be severely punished." She finishes as she shovels another fork full of salad into her mouth.

Right.

Almost before we've finished our last mouthful, Annabelle has cleared the table. I can hear her rattling around in the side room, obviously loading the dishwasher.

"Come with us please, Edward," Carlisle says, holding his hand out to me. "Follow me."

Taking his fingers, I clasp them tightly as butterfly nerves flutter around the base of my throat and in my stomach.

"Are you alright?" he asks. "Are you okay to continue?"

Staring at his lovely face, I take a deep breath, smile and nod.

"Christ you're lovely…" he murmurs, leaning in to kiss my forehead.

"That's enough, Carlisle," Katy says, chuckling, "I know you've waited for a long time to get near this one but only a little while longer."

Climbing back up the stairs, Carlisle picks up my bag and we climb the next two flights to the top of the house with Katy and Annabelle following behind us, still holding hands.

Realising where we are as the four of us stand crowded together on the tiny landing, I feel my heart sink.

Shit.

Not another fucking attic room?

"Don't sulk, Anna," Katy says, "I know Carlisle is more than a little bit excited about his new play thing, just indulge him and you won't be left out."

Ignoring them, I stare at the door in front of me on the small, bright landing. A large skylight fills the space with dazzling late evening sun and my palms instantly become sweaty as I look around me.

My breathing hitches slightly as I remember the grubby, dishevelled, unkempt room I lived in previously and holding his fingers more tightly, I turn to look at him feeling alarmed. I don't think I can do this… not another cramped, damp uncomfortable room. I won't do it.

"Are you okay, Edward?" he asks again. "Don't you like heights?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," I say quietly, trying to remove the fear from my voice. "Is the room very low? I'm quite tall… I don't want to bang my head… is it a small room? I don't like enclosed spaces…" I murmur.

"No, don't worry, it's full height. We want you to be comfortable when you're off duty, we wouldn't put you in anywhere that isn't suitable, I promise you," he says as he strokes my palm again. "Come on, I can't wait to get started." He continues as he opens the door. "This is your submissive's room, Edward," Carlisle says, grinning at my frowning face.

The room is indeed full height and once again, it's painted a plain, matt white. It's bright, sunny and spotlessly clean with immaculate furnishings and a highly polished light oak wooden floor.

Yeah…

"Are you kidding me?" I gasp out as I spin to look at Annabelle who is still in her perfect submissive position, standing behind Katy with her head down and hands clasped. "You are joking! Tell me this is a joke? You can't seriously expect me to sleep in here. I don't believe this!"

"Why on earth would it be a joke?" Carlisle asks, frowning, "We thought it best if it was like this. You're new to all of this and we want to give you a little bit of support and comfort during the night. If you don't agree with our decisions tomorrow, we can re-evaluate the situation. Yes?"

"Anna is always on top." Katy says, chuckling and as I look at her with my mouth hanging open, they both laugh out loud at my reaction.

Bunk beds.

There are, wooden, white painted, child sized sodding bunk beds against the far wall with a large, rectangular window, covered by a white blind, sitting next to them. The beds have duvets and pillows covered in fucking ducks and there is a line of rubber ducks on a shelf above the top bunk.

For fuck's sake.

She's taking this obsession a little bit far now.

I'm a man! Not a child! What the hell are they doing?

"I don't think I'll fit… I'm too tall…" I grumble.

"Oh, they're deceptively long, Edward," Katy says, "You'll fit. Now, unpack your bag. There's a sleep suit hanging up for you in the wardrobe as well as the outfit I want you to wear in the playroom. Annabelle will make sure you know where everything is kept. All toiletries are provided in the bathroom, unpack your things and ensure you're perfect for Carlisle, okay? You have half an hour to be ready for us, on your knees, outside the dungeon. Don't disappoint me again tonight or I will send you home and cancel the test weekend. Make no mistake, Edward, if you upset my husband once more, I will do just that. Okay?" she says, brightly, patting me on the arm as if she is asking if I wanted another cup of tea.

"Um… okay…" I say, uncertainly as I look around the large, simple room. There's a wide desk with two chairs in front of it. A pink journal and similar blue book, sit on the desk and a small chest of drawers that has a small, old fashioned television standing on top of it.

Even though I was used to having nothing after my father had died and I'd moved in with the old bag at the bottom of Muswell Hill, things were now very different. Since Jasper had come back into my life, I'd got a taste for the finer things in life and this room is basic to say the very least.

"Is everything alright?" Carlisle asks icily.

"Um… it's very… um… sparse?" I say, questioningly.

"This is where you sleep and where you have down time. You need nothing but a bed and a desk to fill in your journals. You aren't here for comfort, Edward. You are here to be our toy. This space is comfortable, clean and provides you with all the basic requirements you will have. It isn't a five star hotel. Most nights you will sleep on the floor, chained to our bed anyway, so this room is an irrelevance." Katy says, waving her hand dismissively as she turns and stops out, with her husband following her.

"Hurry up." Carlisle says, "You may talk to him now. Be nice, girl, I want the rest of the night to be enjoyable. Edward already has a punishment looming; I don't want to have to add one for you too." He says, nodding towards Annabelle who snaps her head up and glowers at me.

And then they're gone, closing the door quietly behind them.

Without any pleasantries, I turn around and look at the almost snarling red head in front of me. She's looking at me as if I've crawled out from under a rock as I stare at her and curl my lip as she scowls right back at me, furrowing her brow as she looks me up and down.

"Sleep on the _floor?"_ I ask Annabelle, shocked. "Are they fucking kidding me? After they cane us, beat us and fuck us, and we tidy everything away whilst they toddle off to bed, we get to sleep on the bloody floor? Fuck that! No way! No bloody way I'm doing that kind of shit!"

Staring at me with thinly concealed disdain, she shakes her head. "And you're shocked about this because? Haven't you read their information pack? They like to have us at their beck and call at all times during a play weekend. Carlisle is insatiable and wakes me up at least once during the night. Usually just for a blow job or a straight fuck, but it's still tiring, especially as he rarely gives permission for me to cum during the night. They put a mattress and duvet down; you don't actually sleep on the floor boards."

"And that's okay with you? Fuck! I didn't know I would be treated like some sort of pet!"

"Christ. You're a whiny little bitch, aren't you?" she spits out at me with clipped tones that match my own for upper class precision. "Of course you're their fucking pet! You do as you are told, when you're told and how you're told and nothing else. If you don't adhere to their wishes, you get punished. What did you think you'd be doing this weekend? Sleeping in the marital bed with the lovely Carlisle after he's made love to you? Huh? Don't flatter yourself! He wants to fuck your arse and get you to suck his cock. He doesn't want to fall in love with you! He won't be making love to you so don't get any ideas above your station, you idiot of a boy! I come before you too remember? I've been with them for three months now, I know more than you do, so just fucking do as you're told and don't fuck things up for me this weekend, I've already screwed up once and I don't want any more!"

Sighing deeply, I shake my head. "You don't like me very much do you?" I ask as I move to the desk and start unpacking my frugal possessions.

"Not much. No. No, I don't think I do to be honest. You've got a pretty face, but I don't understand why Carlisle needs you. I'm a handful in the playroom and bedroom and he struggles to dominate me all the time. I fight back, I can't help myself. Katy rarely has sex anymore, she's menopausal you know, so I don't know how he's going to keep us both happy as if she needs to cum she usually does it herself or they do whatever they do together when I'm not around." She grumbles.

What the fuck?

Why do they all say I've got a pretty fucking face?

"Thanks for that! You've just added to my shitty fucking mood! Ugh! Tonight is turning into a disaster! I might as well leave a picture of my face and fuck off home!" I hiss out as I sling my bag on the bottom bunk.

"What?" she asks, sounding confused as she pulls the stupid shoes off her feet. "What did I say?"

"_Pretty face?_" I ask, "Is that what you think I am? _Just_ a pretty fucking face? God I'm so fed up of this shite! Even in THIS environment people can't see past this!" I say, waving my hand in a sloppy circle around my jaw. "I can promise you, I'm a bit more than a pretty fucking face! Fucking hell! Why? WHY can't people see that there's more to me than an okay face?"

"Keep you knickers on! Jesus! Are you gay or straight? You're behaving like a big pissy drama queen! Get over yourself! I'm not spoon feeding some bloody brattish baby this weekend you know! Get over yourself, you're a good looking guy. Most boys would kill to look like you do, Christ, if only that was the only problem we all had! You're a spoilt brat!"

"Sod off," I say, as I turn to look at her again. "I'm straight and I'm not a fucking drama queen. Okay?"

"Then why the hell are you here? Katy doesn't touch girls but Carlisle most certainly fucks boys, so why are you here? Aren't you here for him as well as her? Or are you here to play with me? I don't understand any of this. Will you be playing with Carlisle as well?" she asks.

"Yes. Yes I will be playing with both of them." I say without giving any more details.

"I don't understand that. I really don't. If you're straight, why are you going to be with him as well as her?"

Turning to look at her, I smile. She's really very pretty now she's removed her facial embellishment. She has an oval face with large eyes and reasonably thick lips and my cock twitches at the thought of what those lips would feel like wrapped about my erection. "I guess we'll be expected to fuck one another as well as them, won't we?" I ask her.

"I suppose so." She says, tapping her bottom lip with her finger as her eyes open wide and she looks at me, horrified.

"What?" I ask. "What's the matter? What have I said now?"

"Oh shit!" she says suddenly. "Oh please tell me that you've had sex with a girl, haven't you, Edward?" she asks, sighing, "I don't want to have to teach you everything. It's sodding dull teaching a bloody virgin. They had me playing with one last week. God it was boring. He came the second I licked his slit. Ugh. It was so awful. He came all over my face and I wasn't allowed to move. I had to sit there with cold jizz on my face and tits and ended up getting paddled because I moaned that it felt disgusting and was chained to the end of their bed again. I wasn't even allowed to wash the shit off as a punishment. Ugh! You aren't going to be like that are you? I fucking hope I don't have to teach you how to fuck! Christ! This isn't what I signed up for! If I wanted to be the one doing the teaching, I would be training to be a bloody Dominatrix!"

"Oh," I say, smiling at her slowly. "I think it's safe to say I know my way around a woman's body, Annabelle… I love being touched by both men and women. But especially women. Fucking a man is more… um… animalistic and base I suppose. More physical, less holds barred, I can let loose without fear of hurting a man, and I can be as rough and brutal as I want to be. With girls, I feel different when I fuck; I suppose I'm more careful. Cautious? Yes, I guess when I touch a female, I'm gentler. Now, tell me something, Annabelle, as well as touching Katy and Carlisle, do you want me to touch you as well?"

She stares at me and licking her bottom lip she flushes slightly as one hand goes to cover a nipple and the other flies to her neck.

Right.

She likes me.

"You shouldn't be talking to me like that, idiot!" she spits out, "You're going to train as a submissive! That sounds more like a bloody dominant planning a scene! You only get to touch me at their order, not by our choice or decision. You fucking need to get that in your head! UGH! This is going to be a bloody horrible weekend!"

"Oh," I say, grinning, "I wouldn't say that." Smirking at her, I wiggle my long fingers in her direction. "I've been told that these are magical, you know? I've got long… supple… well trained fingers…"

Huffing, she folds her arms over her small boobs and scowls at me.

Laughing at her look of disgust, I yank the wardrobe door open and when I see what is in front of me, I stop dead in my tracks. It wipes the smile off my face faster than a punch in the gut, and I feel like I've been smacked with a wet kipper.

"What in the name of fuck is that?" I gasp out as I lift an all in one, tiger print sleep suit complete with padded feet that would fit me.

"That's what you have to wear to sleep in when you're in here." She says, cocking her head on one side, laughing as she does so. "I have to wear a piglet one. Katy likes children's stories. When they aren't playing, she is Eyore and Carlisle is Pooh. It's quite sweet really. Katy cooks for us all on a Sunday and fusses and flaps around. We have a nice roast and sit together in the dining room, wearing our sleep suits and read the Sunday papers. Katy can't have kids, so we all become her family."

Fuck it all.

"Oh my God… this house is full of nuts!" I groan as I lift the other hanger out of the cupboard. "There's no fucking way I'm wearing that! I came here to learn about BDSM and to get fucked and now I'm going to become their fucking child? What the hell is going on here, Anna? And I am NOT wearing that fucking ugly thing!"

"You will." Annabelle states flatly. "Katy and I spent days making that fucking thing. The feet were a nightmare to make, you've got such big sodding feet and trying to fold in the seams on the PVC was horrible, so you'll damned well do as she's asked, and wear it! And don't you dare be unkind about them, they're the kindest, nicest people I've ever known. I love them both very much, so don't you even think about being disrespectful about them or you'll have me to deal with!"

"Bossy little bitch, aren't you?" I hiss out at her with a curled lip. "I won't do anything I don't want to. You all need to learn that about me. I'm no fucking push over! I don't even know why I'm here! I can get a shag five minutes after I set foot in a club, so what the fuck have I let myself in for? Fucking hell! I haven't signed anything yet, I can leave at any time. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I know that. You can repack your little rucksack and fuck off back to where you came from! You can leave whenever you want. I know it, you know it, and they know it. The three of us talked about this just this morning. Carlisle doesn't want you to leave and says it isn't a possibility. Katy and I think you might change your mind, but looking at you now, I don't think you will. You won't, will you?" she chuckles as she takes the hanger from my hand and places it over the back of a chair. "I don't doubt that any man or woman would willingly drop their drawers and let you fuck them without a second thought because whether you like it or not, you are fucking beautiful, but you're bored with that, aren't you? You like the chase more than the catch, I've met your kind before. You're a pervy little fucker and you want to find out what this world is all about, so you won't leave until you've tried it. Will you, Eddie baby?"

"Don't fucking call me that!" I demand. "Don't you dare! My name is _EDWARD!_ Got it?" I bark out at her.

"And you call me fucking bossy do you? I think you're a demanding, brattish, spoiled little oik. Unfortunately for me, Carlisle fancies the arse off you so I have to put up with you being here and even letting you fuck me. Now, strip, show me what you're made of and put on your costume. I have to check that you did indeed follow their instructions and that you're clean and fresh and worthy of them. Just to let you know, if you keep them waiting, your spanking is going to be twice as bad, okay?" she says.

"What do you mean? Is she really going to spank me tonight?" I ask, stunned.

"Of course she is. You broke Carlisle's rules and Carlisle is the love of her life. You upset him, or she thinks you did, and now you have to face the consequences." She says, shrugging, "Now drop them. Let me see you… all of you…"

Turning to face her, I grin.

"If you insist, Miss?" I ask. "You know, I've seen your naked body, but I don't even know your full name yet, do I?"

"I don't know why you want to know, Edward. It's not like we're going to be friends or anything like that is it? But if it makes you get your finger out and bloody hurry up, okay. My name is Smith. Annabelle Smith. Now hurry up. If we're late, I get paddled as well. Okay?" she demands.

Staring at her, I lick my lips, grab the edges of the cotton and smile. "Well, _Smith, Annabelle Smith, _I'm Edward Anthony Cullen and its jolly nice to meet you. And your bad temper!" I chuckle as I slowly peel my t-shirt off, rip it over my hair and fling it on the floor, barely breaking eye contact with her.

"You'll… you'll pick that… that up…" she says, breathlessly as her eyes roam my naked chest.

"No. No, I won't. You can do it for me," I coerce as I inhale, puffing my chest out further. "You're a submissive in training, aren't you? So be a good little sub and pick it up, okay?"

"Okay…" she says, unbelievably. "If that's what you want me to do, Mr Cullen…"

"Really?" I ask, shocked, "You'll pick up and fold up after me?"

"Of course I fucking won't, you conceited arse wipe! Do it your fucking self, dick, or I'll tell Katy and she'll hit you even harder!" she laughs, sticking her tongue out at me as she picks my top up.

Shaking my head, I smile to myself because despite the fact that she's a total mouthy, opinionated bitch, I think I might quite like her. If she could keep her mouth shut for thirty seconds.

"Mmmm…" she says and as I look down, she's sniffing the armpit of my top, the soft cotton pressed firmly against her nose.

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, shocked.

"You smell great… great…" she says inhaling deeply before she throws the top at me. "Now stop being a little fucker and hurry up!"

"Yeah okay," I sigh, as I kick my trainers off, slip my socks off and smile at her. Slowly I unbutton my jeans and tug them down.

"Holy fuck!" she yelps as I kick them across the room with one foot and yanks my boxers down with both my hands, as fast as I can. "What the fuck is THAT?" she barks as she stares at my rock hard cock. "What in the name of God am I meant to do with that thing? Fucking hell, Cullen! How in the name of all that's holy did you fit THAT bastard inside your jeans without being in agony?"

"I take it you aren't a virgin still MISS Smith!" I chuckle. "I think you might know that this is an erect cock? Yes? And these," I continue, jiggling my balls around in one of my cupped hands, fighting the urge to groan at the lovely feeling as I do so, "Are my big bollocks! Biology lesson for the day is now over. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

"You're a little bastard, Cullen," she says, walking closer to me. "I can't believe the size of that thing! Holy fuck! That isn't going down my throat or up my arse, I can promise you! In fact, I'm not sure it'll fit inside my pussy either!"

"I'm not offering it to you, bitch!" I laugh as I bend down and pick the rest of clothing and fold them up. "I want Carlisle and Katy to be the ones fucking me, not you, little girl!"

"Huh. Bend over again, Edward; I've got to check you carefully to make sure you did as they wanted."

"What do you mean?" I ask, frowning at her.

"I need to check that you had your balls and arsehole waxed, so hurry up, bend over and pull your cheeks apart."

"Fuck off!" I bark out.

"Don't be such a pussy, Edward! Let me see or I'll have to yell for help. They won't touch you if you aren't smooth."

Shit.

Oh well.

"Fine." I say, sighing as I grab the cheeks of my backside, yank them apart and bend over.

"Fuck…" she says from behind me.

"Seen enough?" I ask, looking behind me at the flushed girl.

"Um… turn around…" she says. As I do, she drops to her knees and my balls automatically tighten as my cock leaks a steady stream in response to the thought that it's about to get sucked.

Sigh.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I ask as I turn fully.

"Checking your balls…" she says almost breathlessly. "God… they are huge…" she whispers as her fingers move so close to me that I can feel the heat coming from her skin.

"Don't do that… I won't be able to control myself… please… don't…" I say, barely above a whisper as I move back to the wardrobe and put the ridiculous sleep suit away.

"Fuck…" she whispers, and turning around, I start slightly when Annabelle is right in front of me.

"Can I touch it?" she asks. "Can I?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your cock. Can I touch it?"

"If you want to…" I murmur leaning forwards and inhaling the scent of her hair. She smells amazing and it would be so easy to yank her feather covered thong off and yank her down onto my erection and fuck her hard and fast. The other two never need to know…

As she moves her hand to touch my dripping erection, I slap her fingers away, burst out laughing and jump back. "I don't fucking think so!"

"EDWARD!" she barks, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Don't do that! Why can't I touch you? Please! I could give you one quick suck, couldn't I? Just to see what you taste like? Just to see if I can even get that fucker into my mouth? Please?"

"_What's going on up there?" _Katy yells from downstairs, _"You two better not be sodding about! This isn't a free weekend, Annabelle! We're testing Edward! Get ready, you've got ten minutes left!"_

Shit.

Taking the other coat hanger out of the wardrobe, I screw my nose up and scowl, "Why, Anna?" I say without thinking, but changing the subject. "Why would she make me wear this?"

"I like it when you call me that," she says smiling, as she nods. "Katy wanted you to look like an angel. She says you are so beautiful and surprisingly innocent looking that this outfit is just right." She finishes simply as she pulls the 'outfit' from its hanger and hands me the main item of clothing.

Sighing, I hook it over my ankles and wiggle it upwards.

A feather jock strap.

"What the hell are these?" I ask, flicking the downy plumes that barely contain my erection.

"Swan feathers," she says, handing me the large, elaborate, fluffy white wings.

Fuck it all.

I look like that camp sodding angel, Durand Durand from that crappy 1960's film, bloody Barbarella. The Muswell Hillbilly liked watching Jane Fonda films. Nothing modern, and as I rarely got to see TV, I was happy to watch anything with her. It was good to see a semi-naked female too but I had to cover my burgeoning erection with one of her cushions whenever Jane Fonda appeared on screen. In all the time we shared a home, I watched television with her no more than five times, and that was when she was pissed and didn't want to be alone in case she vomited and choked.

Yeah.

Great childhood.

"Fuck…" I grumble, "Do I REALLY have to wear this crap? I look pathetic!" I gasp out.

"Actually, I think you look nice…" she says, fiddling behind me. Annabelle tightens the fastenings and ensures that the ridiculously huge wings are firmly in place before she leaves the room via the other door.

"What are you doing?" I ask and as I open the door that leads into a sanitary white shower room. Bouncing around, making her breasts move as she does so, she looks up at me, blushing as she pulls on an outfit the same as mine but in black. Her scarlet hair is now hanging loose around her shoulders and is waving from the plaiting. "Wow…" I say as my cock shoots up and almost brings me to my knees as it scrapes against the sharp quills of the feathers. "You look… fuck… you looking amazing…" I finish as she slips her black painted toe nailed feet into a pair of black stilettoes.

"Thank you… Katy wanted us to be good and bad. Sweet and corrupted. Innocent and evil, tonight. I guess she sees me as the naughty one, Edward," she says as she stands in front of the mirror and paints her full lips a dark blood red.

"You look… shit… I wish I'd let you suck my cock now…"

"We look good together…" she mutters as we stand side by side and look at one another in the mirror. "We really do…" I say.

"You look like an angel…" she says, turning to stare at me.

"Oh, I doubt that," I say, lightly, "I'm hardly angelic! I've done stuff that even shocked those two," I continue, using my thumb to point in their direction.

"Yeah, well," Anna says, tweaking her own nipples, "If we don't get our arses downstairs and allow them to play with us, neither of us will get to cum or to sleep in a bed tonight so I suggest you brush your teeth, use some mouthwash and hurry up about it!"

Doing as she says, I clean my teeth and as I turn around, I watch, transfixed as Annabelle is carefully rubbing some tinted lip balm on her hardened nipples.

"What?" she asks, scowling at me as she covers her breasts with her splayed fingers and blushes. "What the hell are you staring at? I know my tits are small! I can't help that! Fuck it all, Edward! I'm insecure enough about my boobs! Quit staring! We can't all be well endowed you know, _big boy!_"

"What?" I say, confused. "No! No, Anna! No, it's not that. You're lovely… really lovely… you look beautiful. Stunning. Really lovely… I was just wondering what you were doing that for." I ask, raising my chin towards her chest and pot of oily ointment. "And just to let you know, they aren't small, they're the right size for your frame." I state simply. "Why the hell would you be embarrassed about your tits? They look perfect to me." I finish, shrugging.

"Well… oh… um… okay… well…" she says, sounding flustered as she slowly drops her hands and continues with her ministrations. "Carlisle likes them to shine and to be more obvious. They're pretty pale and he likes them to be a darker shade of pink, so I use this. Come on, let's go. We aren't even meant to be talking much you know."

"Why not?" I ask, confused. "They said you would settle me in and show me where everything was, didn't they?"

"Yes, but only where your clothes were and where you were to put your things, we aren't meant to talk about much else for now. I don't think they want us getting too close in case it doesn't work out." She shrugs nonchalantly.

"Do they have new subs all the time?" I ask.

"No, no they don't. They are hugely in demand you know?" she says, "They are amazing teachers but boy when Katy gets mad or is in the mood for impact play, watch out!" she finishes as she links her arm through mine and struggling to get our massive wings through the frame, she closes the door behind us, after I got my first caning, I couldn't sit down for two days. I had to lie on my stomach with frozen peas on my backside. That made going to university a bit difficult, I can tell you!"

"What are you studying at uni?" I ask, surprised that she's studying for some reason.

"Economics and politics," she says, fluffing up the edge of her wings.

"Really?" I say.

"Why so surprised Mr Cullen? Did you think I was some thicko?"

"No. No, of course not. I just hadn't thought about it I guess. So we'll both be studying on our off times?" I ask.

"Yes. You're doing law aren't you?" she asks.

"Yes, I go to Cambridge in two weeks for the first time. I'm actually really quite excited." I finish.

Manoeuvring our way down the stairs carefully, Annabelle clasps my hand and looks up at me, smiling as her other hand strokes comfortingly up and down my forearm.

I raise my eyebrows, surprised by the way she's now behaving. But I don't pull away from her; it feels nice to have her touching me. Right even…

"Remember, no speaking once we get into our waiting position, Edward? That's seen as a total breach of protocol and a mark of disrespect. Start as you mean to go on and they will be delighted with you." She says, more gently now. "Carlisle is very excited about this, Edward. Do your best. He likes you but knows how fiery you are. Follow your instincts but watch and listen to them closely. Don't lose control or let yourself go, okay?"

"Yes, thanks, Anna." I say, "I might need some guiding tonight, this is all completely new to me… and I think I'm a bit nervous now!"

"You know something, Edward?" she says, squeezing my fingers as we stop outside of a closed door. "It might be quite nice to have a friend and a play mate, after all. It gets a bit lonely at the end of the day being in the room on my own. I think I might quite like you after all." She finishes, nodding as she gets down on her knees and spreads her thighs.

"Do I need to do that?" I say, gesturing down, my eyes fixing inappropriately on her feather covered pussy. "I… um…" I stammer.

Smiling at me, she licks her bottom lip, "Oh yes, sorry. Yes, you do… this is our waiting position and unless told otherwise, we always wait for them like this. But please be careful… those feathers stab your cock. The last boy safe worded and left before Katy even opened the door. He was a total tart but he did cut the head of his dick so I can't say that I really blame him." She sighs as she rolls her neck, straightens her back and places her spread palms on her knees.

Emulating her, I get down on my knees and shuffle into position, only I clasp my hands behind my back because this position makes my chest and cock more obvious and my wings more rampant.

"Looking good, Cullen," Anna hisses through the side of her mouth, "You certainly know how to make the most of what you've got, boy!"

"Are you speaking, Annabelle?" an icy voice snaps from beside us. "Well?"

"Yes, Mistress, forgive me."

"Forgive us, Mistress. She was just explaining the protocols of our position to me," I interrupt. "It's my fault. Not hers. If anyone needs punishing, please take it out on me, not on her." I finish, feeling oddly protective of the slender girl beside me.

"Well, well, well, that's a turn of events I hadn't anticipated. Very gentlemanly behaviour. That pleases me. It pleases me very much indeed; I like my family to look after one another. But, however gallant that might be, Edward," Carlisle says, trailing a finger over the top of my head, "you weren't given leave to talk. One extra spank I think, darling," he says to his wife.

"In the very least." She states, coolly. "Remember, you may be friends when off duty but when you are here, your duties are to your Master and me, Annabelle, and not to one another. Is that clear? You may respond."

"Yes, Mistress. I understand," Anna says, sounding genuinely contrite.

"Now, I think we've all waited long enough. Tonight, Edward, you will be tested by both Katy and me. I want to see how much pain you can handle and what sort of stamina you have. Follow me please," he says, holding his hand out to me. "And by the way, you look fucking amazing! Well done, angel," he says turning to look at his wife. "You were completely right, he looks just like an angel. Fuck… I might not last as long as usual tonight… I'm struggling here, Katy. Fuck… this outfit… well done, darling girl. I have amazing stamina, Edward, but my God… looking like that… fuck… I've never seen anything… anything… anything as beautiful and irresistible as you, baby boy…"

Blimey.

Looking to the side at Annabelle, I'm surprised to see that she has her eyes closed and has her head lowered, perfectly still. Other than her increased respiration, that is. She looks sad.

"Permission to speak, Sir?" I ask Carlisle as I stand up, clasping his fingers and using him to pull me upright.

"Once only, Edward," he says. "In future, you will not speak unless it's to safe word or in response to one of our questions. Do you understand?"

"Thank you, Sir, and yes, I understand completely. From now on, I will adhere to your every wish. I just wanted to know something before we continue, please. Annabelle won't be left out will she? I don't want her to feel left out by any of this. She is your first submissive and I'm still totally untrained, I don't want her to be upset or to feel as if I'm trying to replace her. I don't want that… she has to be equally important, or more so," I say, nodding as I stare at him.

"Again, that is a very kind, gallant thing to say, boy, but Annabelle's wellbeing has nothing to do with you. It's up to her Master and Mistress what does or doesn't happen to her. Please don't be concerned. We are kind to her and ensure that her every need and want are seen to. We aren't cruel to you, are we, girl? We fulfil her wants. Don't we Annabelle? Respond." He says.

"Yes, my Master. You are both so good and kind to your girl. I want no one else…" She says, staring at me with wide, slightly shocked looking eyes.

"You are lovely, Edward. Inside and out…" he says as he trails his index finger along my bottom lip "and this outfit… fuck… I'm just sad you won't let me photograph you…"

Lovely?

I'm not lovely. I'm certainly not kind, I'm a fucker. A total fucker. I'm cold, hard and uncaring. I don't love and I don't care about people's feelings. I never have and never will. I want to get fucked and to fuck in turn and if Annabelle is happy, it will make my life easier and happier too. And I will get to cum.

Simple as.

But I don't want her to be upset.

The look on her face reminded me of the way I used to look and feel when my father ignored me.

Ice trickles into my stomach and I sigh, clasping Carlisle's fingers more tightly. I don't want to think about that, or him, tonight.

The fact that I hated my father so much but want to be fucked by older, more powerful men is an irony that really isn't lost on me, but something I refuse to think about until it wakes me up in the middle of the night.

"Come! Time to play!" Carlisle barks out, making me start and forcing me to focus on him again.

Oh God…

…

As Katy opens the door, the light in front of me is so dim that I have to squint to make out shapes.

"Follow me please, Edward," Carlisle says, pulling me behind him into the darkened, vacuous space before us.

For the first time, apprehension grips my stomach and I slow my walk, pulling back a little as I scan the room.

The reason for the darkness is that the walls are painted a dark, almost foreboding grey and there are no windows visible to me as they've been covered with heavy blinds. Fake torches flicker from various alcoves in the room and as I squint further, it's obvious that large slabs of stone have been painted onto the walls, giving it a look of a medieval dungeon.

"Get into position, both of you," Katy says, pointing to two pillows on the floor in front of a large piece of wooden apparatus that I recognise from my research. It's a St Andrews Cross.

Shit.

Nerves and anticipation fight for supremacy in my chest and my palms and back are instantly wet as Annabelle clasps my fingers and leads me to our place.

"Because it's your first night, we need to go through a few protocols first. Tell me your safe words, Edward, and what they mean to you, please?" Katy says.

"I've given this a lot of thought," I say, feeling a little childish and very embarrassed by my choices. "Um… my safe words are, _'Money,' _to stop. '_Rose'_ to pause and discuss, and '_Law'_ to add more and to continue.

"They're very different!" Katy says, chuckling, "Trust you not to be like the rest of us and have, 'Red, Yellow and Green,' boy! Annabelle, get some paper from the storeroom and make a note of them please, dear, my memory isn't what it once was. Damned hormones. Why did you choose them?" she asks, turning to look at me again.

"No reason," I mumble, "It just seemed like a good idea at the time…"

I couldn't tell her that I'd chosen '_money' _because that's the only thing my father was ever interested in. I hate money. I like what I can do with it, but I don't want it to rule my life. I use it to help in ways that he could never understand and that '_Rose'_ had been my first passion and that her mouthy cockiness always made me stop and think things over. And finally that '_Law'_ was my new, all-encompassing passion along with BDSM. That would make them think that I was a total fruitcake and they would have every reason to send me home, bolt the door and not let me back inside again.

Annabelle scratches away with a fountain pen, making notes in a large, red leather journal before she takes her place beside me once more.

"Are you ready for us, Edward?" Carlisle asks, as he pulls his t-shirt over his head and stands before me. His muscular chest simmers lightly in the dimness and I can't help but stare and lick my lips in anticipation.

"Yes, Sir. Yes, I am." I say.

"Lower your eyes whilst my wife and I prepare ourselves for you. Don't move and DON'T look up until I tell you to. Annabelle, get on the table. Remove your clothing and wings and lie on your back, do it now." He says as he turns around and disappears from my peripheral vision.

Long minutes pass and there is lots of rustling before a pair of painted toe nails appear in my line of vision. "Come with me, Edward," Katy says, calmly and quietly.

Standing, I follow her across the room, still looking down as she hasn't told me that I can look up.

"You may watch us now," she says.

Before she even finishes her sentence, I look up and gasp. Annabelle is spread out on the padded table, her arms and legs are manacled to the four legs and she's stretched out widely. She's totally naked and her hair is once more plaited and on top of her head. Her bottom is at the very edge of the table and her pussy is totally exposed to me, wet, bare and puffy.

Shit.

My cock reacts so violently, that I shudder and bend forwards as it fights inside its confinement.

"She looks lovely, doesn't she?" Katy asks as she picks up two heavy, black floggers. "Spread out for us to do whatever we want to her? Is she affecting you too, Edward?"

Fuck. Surely she isn't going to use them on this whip thin girl, is she?

I don't answer. I think it's right that I don't because she didn't tell me to respond to her, so I just stay quiet.

"Well done, boy," Carlisle says, coming up behind me. I don't move as he strokes down my spine, between the cumbersome wings before he wraps himself around me and groans. The way that he presses against me means that I can feel his denim covered erection and naked, damp chest against my back. "You are delicious…" he says as he kisses the side of my neck and trails one hand along the top of my feathered knickers. The other hand cups my throat and pulls my head back firmly. As I groan, his grip on my neck increases and all but stops my ability to breathe as he grinds his erection against me. It feels amazing. Dots dance around before my eyes and I struggle to swallow my suddenly thickened saliva.

"Fuck, you two do look lovely together, Carlisle," Katy says, "I hope I get to be involved, love, and that you aren't going to be the only one to dominate him tonight? You will share with me, won't you, darling?"

"Oh, love," Carlisle says, moving his hand to stroke my chest hair, "I wouldn't dare to be that selfish… I know I would be wearing my balls as a necklace for the next week if I did that, my love!" he chuckles leaning over and kissing her on the lips. "Get ready, Annabelle. This is Edward's first test and I expect him to make it good."

Looking behind me as Carlisle lets go of my hand and walks away, I scowl.

"You are to go down on Annabelle and see if you can make her cum using your mouth alone, Edward," Katy says. "This is one of your tests. We need to see if you can control yourself. We want to see which of you is the strongest. Whether you can make Annabelle cum like this and if she can hold back. I should warn you, she has the stamina of an ox and never cums through oral sex alone, Edward. I always have to use my fingers, cock or a toy on her, but you aren't allowed to do that. Get going. Good luck, boy! You're going to need it!"

Okay…

We've touched hands but haven't even so much as kissed or stroked one another's hair and I've got to shove my tongue up inside her?

Right.

Katy kicks my pillow across the room and smiles at me, "Nothing but your mouth remember, Edward? You may grip onto her legs and the table to balance yourself but you mustn't use your hands anywhere near her vagina, do you understand me?"

The proper biological terminology brings me up short and I turn my head and look at her, frozen. Shit. This feels wrong. Odd. Strange. Uncomfortable…

"Are you alright, boy?" Carlisle asks. "Do you want to stop or to continue? Respond."

"Um… oh… no it's fine; I want to continue… it's just that… um… do I kneel or bend down?" I say, scowling.

"I would suggest you kneel down, that's what the pillow is for. She takes forever to cum so you're going to get backache and cramp!" Carlisle chuckles. "The first time I did it, Katy had folded an entire boxful of napkins before she was even halfway done!"

Nodding, I inhale deeply and look at Annabelle properly for the first time. As I'd seen, she's stretched so wide that every ligament and tendon in her shapely legs is visible and the muscles in her arms and inner thighs are defined in her efforts to remain still. But what surprises me most of all is the fact that her nipples are pinched firmly between two peg shaped clamps, joined with a thick, silver chain.

Our eyes lock and smiling, I nod a little and kneel at the end of the table. Looking down, I once more spread my thighs and clasp my hands behind my back tightly and await my instructions.

"Get on with it, boy," Katy says, "You are due a spanking yet and Carlisle and I each have another trial for you before the end of the night."

Looking at her spread legs properly for the first time, I shuffle forwards, oddly nervous. What if I fail?

Ridiculous.

I'd never failed at making anyone cum with my mouth over the last couple of years so why on earth would I fail now?

No.

Failure is not an option.

Placing my hands on her inner knees, I lean forwards and smile. Unlike Jacinta who was merely closely cropped, Annabelle is totally bare. I've never seen anything like it and leaning in closer, I take a long, slow sniff of her body.

"She smells delicious, doesn't she, Edward?" Carlisle says, and as I turn around, I notice a fully naked Katy swinging her arms around, holding the floggers, obviously loosening her shoulders up. Her nipples are pierced and across the top of both her breasts she has a thin line of ducks, swans and cupcakes tattooed. Frowning, I turn back to the task before me and try to resist the temptation of asking what the fuck she has those inked on her for.

Digging my spread fingers firmly into Annabelle's soft legs, I sit upright fully and without giving her any warning, I gently blow on her wetness. Shivering, she groans and tries to lift her pelvis up to meet me.

"Don't move, Annabelle," Katy says as a soft, rabbit hair flogger makes contact with her nipples for the first time.

As she lifts her head up again, Anna's widened eyes flash to Katy, I take my chance and take a long, languid lick from her arsehole all the way up to her clitoris and back down again.

By the time she's registered what I'm doing, I've stopped and once again blow warm air on her hot flesh and she jerks firmly in response to what I'm doing.

She tastes amazing. Warm, musky, sweet and spicy and instantly, all nerves dissipate and holding onto her skin more firmly, I dive in.

Licking, sucking, probing, I throw myself into my task with gusto, dragging every bit of arousal out of her body and drink it down.

By the time I start to fuck her hard and fast with my tongue, and my nose bumps repeatedly and relentlessly against her clit, Katy has moved on to heavier floggers. She is now swiping her sweat covered frame with the long, thick leather fronds in time to my sucking motions and as Annabelle screams, she thrusts upwards despite her bindings, and she cums, flooding my face with her liquid.

Five minutes tops. I've made her cum with nothing but my tongue and nose.

She tastes less tangy than Jacinta but nice just the same. I like the way girl's taste, as long as they are clean. The memory of one unfortunate encounter when I suddenly knew what my old class mates meant when they said girls smelled 'fishy' flashes across my mind. I picked up a girl in a club and after one joint too many, we ended up sixty nining in the back of her mini cooper. It wasn't comfortable and her smell and taste almost made me vomit. I had to fake a cold sore and use my fingers instead.

"Jesus Christ, boy!" Carlisle gasps out when he realises what's just happened. "You made her cum? Already? Explain yourself, Annabelle! You weren't given permission to climax! What is the meaning of this? Speak!" he barks quickly untying the sweat soaked, panting girl before me.

As I lick my lips, I sit back on my heels and smirk at her. Katy quickly unties her arms and as she sits up, looking totally bewildered, she stares at me, with her mouth hanging open. Her hair is all over the place and her breasts, shoulders and ribs are covered in pink stripes from Katy's ministrations.

"Sorry… Master… Mistress…" she pants, "Sorry! I've… I've never… never… felt that before… shit… his mouth is so powerful… shit… it was like… that clit pump! Remember? When I'm good, you use the pump on me? His mouth is as strong as that! FUCK!" she yells out, and a tear trickles down her cheek as she punches the soft fake leather of the table.

"Sit up properly, Annabelle," Katy instructs as she quickly unshackles her legs, "Edward, lie on your back on the table and let me sit on your face. Let's see if you can do it again."

The look on Annabelle's face is priceless and as I stand up, I frown as I look to the side of me at my wing. "Permission to speak, Madam," I say.

"No." Katy says, firmly. "I know you're going to ask about your wings, don't worry about them. They'll be uncomfortable but that doesn't matter to me. Lie down and fuck me with your tongue. Anna has had quite enough, thank you very much."

Annabelle's face shoots towards her mistress's and then she looks at me, an air of petulance settling on her features as she does so. She obviously liked what I just did to her and wants more. Good to know.

"Sulk and you won't get to cum for a month, Annabelle," Carlisle says, coldly. "It's your Mistress's turn for some pleasure now. Don't you think she deserves it too, Anna? Respond."

"Yes, Master. Forgive me. My Mistress deserves whatever pleasure the boy can give her." She says.

"You seem to have pleased our little Annabelle very much, Edward," Katy says as she wriggles out of her jeans and thong, "Let's see if you can do the same for me."

As I lie down on the table, I winch as the bindings and feathers bite into my back.

"Does that hurt, Edward?" Carlisle asks, "Respond."

"A little, Sir," I say, truthfully. "It doesn't hurt as such, it's more uncomfortable. The feathers scratch and itch and it's irritating my skin."

"Can you stand it? Word." He says.

"Um…" I say, inhaling deeply, "_Law,_ Sir," I respond.

"Good. Continue, darling, and make sure you have fun. At least once!" he instructs Katy.

The feathers in my wings creak as Katy clambers onto the table and straddles my head. "Are you ready, boy?" she says. I don't respond and just lie there with my eyes lowered respectfully. "Well done! You're getting the hang of being obedient already! Carry on!" she giggles as she lowers herself onto my face.

Unlike Annabelle, Katy hasn't been waxed. No. I think it's safe to say that the lovely Mrs Hale like the 'eau naturalle' look.

Shit.

Her pubic hairs tickle my nose as she wiggles on top of me, and it feels weird against my tongue. But she is going to be my Mistress and I have to be able to do this so once more, I do what's required of me and lick, probe and suck with everything I have.

Katy bounces and squeals enthusiastically on top of me and every downward jerk forces my tongue deeper inside of her and makes my nose rub her clitoris firmly. The wings bite more into my skin and I'm forced to hold my muscles rigid to stop them cutting in further.

"Holy fucking… Christ… on a… crumbly buggering… cracker!" she gasps out as she grabs hold of my hair and yanks my head up and down in time with her movements. She changes her movements almost instantaneously and begins sliding her hips backwards and forwards. The friction from her hair makes my nose burn and I have the horrible thought that if she takes much longer, I might just be polished so much that I will glow like Rudolf come Christmas eve. "Fuck… FUCK… FUCK… F U C K! JESUS ON A SHINY RED JETSKI!" she screeches as she cums so violently that I almost drown!

She drops forwards with her legs clamped tightly around my head.

I can't breathe and have to fight the feeling of overwhelming panic that starts to take me over.

"Hold… hold me… up… girl…" she pants out.

I can hear the soft padding of feet and suddenly Katy lifts herself up and I gasp in a desperate breath.

"Clean him." Carlisle barks out as Katy flings her leg off me and climbs off the table.

Immediately, Annabelle takes hold of my head tenderly and slowly begins to lick my nose, nostrils and lips free from Katy's arousal.

It feels soothing after the brillo pad like scraping of Katy's course hair.

"Fuck me… sideways…" Katy pants out. "He's got a suck like… like a bastarding… spin cycle…" she heaves.

Looking up into Annabelle's eyes, my cock attempts to pole vault out of its avian enclosure when she stares unblinkingly into mine and then starts to lick my chin.

How the hell is that such a turn on?

My mouth drops open and I groan loudly as she starts to rhythmically suck my nose and nostrils, cleaning Katy's cum from them.

Whimpering, my hips start to move of their own volition and with every upward thrust, my leaking cock slaps against my belly.

"STOP!" Carlisle barks. "You are NOT to cum, Edward! You are NOT! Your cum belongs to me tonight, not to the other two and I haven't felt your mouth yet so stop it right now!"

Annabelle immediately stops, stands up straight and moves away from me, leaving me a heaving panting mess on the damp table.

"Now…" Carlisle says, quietly as he trails a finger nail along the sole of my bare foot. "What to do, my lovely… what to do to you… so many choices… so many things I want to test you on…" he murmurs as his digits move upwards towards my inner thigh. As I whimper, he stops and slaps my delicate flesh painfully hard. "Did I, or did I not tell you that the only noises you were allowed to make tonight are if you were to safe word, boy?"

Dragging in a painful lung full of air, I don't respond. I'm learning. And I'm learning fucking quickly. That slap was sodding sore and if he's right and Katy can hit much harder, I don't want to piss them off any more than I already have.

"Good boy… such a good boy…" he says. "Now. As it's your first time in the dungeon, I think you should decide how to please me, Edward."

What?

Fuck.

I wasn't expecting that. What the hell do I do now?

"What do you want to do to me, Edward?" he asks.

Well that's easy enough.

"Respond."

"Permission to climb off the table please, Sir," I say, quietly.

"Granted."

Sitting up, I roll my neck, making it crack loudly. I've been lying down for quite some time and my back hurts from the way that the wings have cut into my skin.

Sliding off the padded bench, I drop to the floor and prostrate myself before the beautiful man in front of me.

Spreading my knees wider, I wince at the discomfort once more meted out by Katy's designer undergarment.

"May I show you how happy I am to be of service to you, Sir?" I ask, looking up at him through my eyelashes.

"Fuck me…" he gasps out. "You're a manipulative little shit, Cullen! Fuck! Are you sure you haven't done this before? If you keep looking at me like that, I'm going to cum before you fucking touch me!"

"Sorry, Sir…" I say, quietly as I lick my bottom lip in anticipation. I don't move. I just sit and stare at him, blinking as little as I can.

"Annabelle!" Carlisle barks out, making me jump. "Restrain the boy!"

Scowling, I look up at his face worried that I've done something wrong.

"Don't look concerned, baby," he says, almost cooing at me as he strokes the side of my face, "You haven't displeased me."

Suddenly my feet are kicked apart and as I look behind me, Annabelle beavers away, manacling my ankles before she clicks a metal bar between my ankles rendering me immobile. Next she grabs my wrists behind me and ties them together tightly.

I screw my face up because once again, Katy's feathery garb is cutting into my flesh.

"Word." Carlisle says. "Respond."

"Um… _Law_, Sir," I say, excitement building in me in ways I hadn't thought possible. I've sucked more cocks than I can remember over the years but this is different. Riley was strong and almost aggressive with me at times, but this man is cool and in control and I have to just go with whatever he wants, or stop it instantly.

I'm in control.

Yes.

I'm the one who holds the power.

"What are you waiting for, boy?" Carlisle asks.

Staring at him, I smile a little bit and lick my lips slowly ensuring that he sees my tongue and open mouth fully.

"Oh God…" he groans out. "Do it. Edward. Do it… suck… my cock… boy," he pants out and as he has ordered, I lean forwards and take a long, languid lick from the base to the leaking tip. "Shit… you're a teasing little fucker…" Carlisle moans out. "Do it again…" he says, through clenched teeth. "Now!"

Humming in pleasure, I slowly drag my tongue along his swollen shaft and when I reach the head, I take a slow swirling lick. And then do it again, and again.

"Fuck it all!" Carlisle barks, jerking his hips and so thrusts his cock closer to me. As he does so, I open my mouth and take the head into my mouth and suck gently. He laces his fingers through my hair and tugs me closer.

Because of the way my hands are bound and the unyielding spreader bar between my ankles, I can't move around easily and as he pulls me, I slip and almost fall over.

Ensuring that I'm properly balanced, I suck and use my tongue to massage his fraenulum.

"Fucking hell…" he groans as I increase the suction and pull him further into my mouth. Doing everything Riley had taught me about deep throating; I inhaled deeply and swallow his cock all the way down in one gulp. Repeatedly swallowing as I start to slowly move my head backwards and forwards, milking his erection as I do so. Katy leans in and begins stroking his balls lightly at the same rhythm of my time as I move and he groans in response.

As his fingers dig into my scalp firmly, he yanks my hair, almost ripping my hair out at the roots, I move my head faster and swallow more quickly and within minutes, he floods my throat with his warm, milky jizz.

"Did you cum already, love?" Katy asks, sounding stunned. "Bloody hell! That's not like you! He's got a great mouth hasn't he? If he agrees to sign the contract, we will have to lend him out to Caius; he won't be able to resist him! I mean, look at him! He's beautiful, perfect, and almost angelic. And he made you lose control!"

"Yes… fuck… can you… can you imagine?" Carlisle says, "He will want to keep him… of course. But he… he can't have him. Fuck… we… we… we'll be the talk of London… London with this boy under our control. Every domme… and dom… will want him. He's so perfect… Annabelle and the boy look so fucking… hot together… I want them playing in public as soon as possible, Katy…" he says, sounding wistful.

I like the idea of that…

"Free him." Katy says to Annabelle who quickly unties me. "We'll be back in a little while. Get into your positions."

As I rub my wrists to increase the circulation, Carlisle and Katy disappear through a sliding doorway.

Neither Annabelle nor I speak as we put our pillows back together and recompose ourselves.

Quietly, Carlisle returns to the room and rattles about in a cupboard doing something.

"Don't comment or stare at the way Katy is dressed, Edward," Annabelle hisses through the corner of her mouth, risking the wrath of Carlisle.

"Why would I do that?" I ask, scowling. "Katy's nice. I wouldn't be unkind like that!"

"Just wait…" she says, settling back into her waiting position once again.

Right on cue, the door opens, and Katy stomps across the room towards me wearing marmalade orange rubber stockings and suspenders and a matching bra and thong. Well. I _think _that's what it's meant to be. Sadly, she's so long limbed that they are more like over stretched pop socks attached to her slender hips with elastic bands. They scarcely reach above her knees and I bite my lip as I force my eyes downwards again.

Carlisle is totally naked and looks amazing as he moves fluidly around the darkened space.

"Come with me please, Edward," Katy says, holding her hand out to me. "Punishment time…"

Oh hell.

Grabbing my fingers tightly she yanks me across the wooden floor, stomping along the wooden floor loudly.

"Now, Edward, my darling boy, I think it's time to finally unwrap Carlisle's present, don't you?" she says.

Scowling, I look around me for a parcel or package of some description, not knowing what she means.

"What are you doing, Edward?" Carlisle asks, "Respond."

"I don't know what Mistress Katy means. What present?" I ask, confused.

"You. You silly boy. You're my present… beautifully and angelically wrapped up for me. I want to unwrap you and see what I've got to look forward to…" he says, as he carefully unties the wings and slips them off before he hands them to Annabelle. "I want to look at you naked for the first time…"

Oh… right.

"Remove his thong, please, Anna," Katy instructs and as she slips back down to her knees, Annabelle stares at me as she carefully pulls the feather covered restraint off of my erection and quickly pulls it down to my ankles.

As I lean on her head, she lifts first one foot, and then the other, sliding the elastic off my feet, before she stands and walks away.

"For the love of… oh my… fucking… hell… Jesus… what in the name of God…" Katy stammers as she stands in front of me and stares at my cock. "What the fuck is THAT?"

"Dear Lord… that's… that's… fuck…" Carlisle says, looking from my cock to my face and back again several times over. "Dear God, Edward… have you actually fucked an arse using that thing?"

I don't move and I don't say a word but through the corner of my eye I can see Annabelle smirking because she has already been privy to my appendage. My cock aches from where the feathers have dug in and I desperately want to scratch myself as the blood begins to pulse through my throbbing balls and tender feeling head.

"Respond please, Edward…" Carlisle says, "I need to know that you know how to use what you've been blessed with."

Looking up at him, I smile, "Yes, Sir. I've fucked both men and women, many times over. I promise you, I know how to use my cock to its full ability."

"Thank fuck…" Katy whispers as she moves even closer. Coughing, she clears her throat and grabs my hand again. "Bend over the spanking bench, please," she says, flatly and as I do as I'm told, metal cuffs suddenly snap around my ankles and wrists, biting into my skin tightly. "Breathe in and get ready, Edward."

Fuck it all.

Inhaling, I let out a long, low groan as her large hands rub and knead my bare arse cheeks gently, building up quite a pressure and friction as they warm my skin. It feels amazingly good and my cock stops aching due to the quills and instead pulses in need, that is, until she suddenly slaps me hard and fast.

"FUCK!" I yelp out in shock, jerking upwards as far as my shackles allow me to move, "That fucking hurts!"

"Another two for that outburst I think, my dear," Carlisle says and Katy chuckles loudly in response to his words.

Twenty slaps later, of which I have to thank her after every contact that she makes on my burning flesh, I lie draped over the hard wooden bench, panting as tears stream down my cheeks.

My erection has disappeared and my cock feels like it's attempting to crawl in to hide behind my balls as I fight to control the sobs that threaten to escape my lips. I might have been neglected as a child but I was never beaten or abused.

I've never been hit in any way, other than when I had scuffles with other boys at school so this has come as one fucking hell of a shock to my arse and my system.

"Thank your Mistress, Edward. You deserved to be beaten and you have been," Carlisle says. "Now, Annabelle, restrain Edward's cock please."

What the fuck?

Annabelle unshackles me and drags me upwards before she kneels in front of me and snaps an icy cold metal cage around my swaying cock.

Oh fucking hell. Can tonight get any worse? My poor cock is trapped inside a cock cage!

For the next few hours, I have to fuck Annabelle again, this time using my fingers as I suckle at her breasts. I have to do the same thing to Katy, several times over before she makes me sit on the floor, cross legged as she teaches me to fold her napkins and then Carlisle fucks my arse as he has me kneel on the floor as Katy beats Annabelle with a wooden spoon.

In between all of this, I'm fed small amounts of fruit and given plenty of water to drink.

"You know, love," Katy says after her fourth orgasm at my hand and mouth, "I normally need a gallon of lube before I'm wet enough for this, but this boy makes that unnecessary. I'm going through the menopause, Edward," she explains, "I dry up like an old bag of sawdust before sex these days. Very annoying. So thanks for doing this. It's been marvellous!"

Finally—finally—the cage is removed from my swollen, agonized cock, and Carlisle slowly and gently sucks, licks and laps at my leaking engorged member, almost nursing me to orgasm. He doesn't manage to deep throat me, sadly, but the blow job is satisfactory and very welcome.

As I cum, Katy grabs hold of my cock and helps wank the final vestiges of orgasm from my body and pulling me out of Carlisle's mouth, she smears some of my cum over her fingers and sucks them clean.

"He tastes good too, love!" she giggles, "I'm ringing Caius tomorrow morning! I can't wait to tell him!"

"Not yet, dear," Carlisle says. "Please. We haven't signed anything yet, Edward," he says, stroking his fingers through my damp, flattened hair as I rest my head on his leg, still trying to settle my breathing and allow my eyes to flutter closed. "But I really want you to agree to allowing us to train you and then to be our permanent house submissive along with Anna. What do you think? Say yes. Please. That was…" he says, smiling and looking at me tenderly, "Without a shadow of a doubt, the most remarkable fucking test scene I've ever participated in. Wouldn't you agree, Katy? Anna?" he asks.

I hurt in ways that I didn't think it was possible to hurt. I've been whipped, caned, paddled, smacked and hit with a belt as I've been ordered to satisfy the other three. Annabelle had been told to get me ready for Carlisle to fuck and she certainly had done a thorough job. Using thick, sticky lube, she'd prepped my arse with two scissoring small fingers before she'd replaced it with a vibrator. When she flicked it to its highest setting, I almost fell over because the throbbing motions pressed my desperate prostate with every movement. Because of the way my cock was trapped in the cage, there was nowhere for the aching need to go, and more than once, I made the inside of my cheek bleed as I bit myself to keep quiet. I enjoyed the impact play more than I thought possible and my skin still burns and throbs, despite the massage of arnica infused cream and all I want to do is go to sleep. I usually cum four of five times in an evening before I feel this knackered, but tonight, one orgasm and I'm on the point of collapse.

I love the total separation that comes with the sexual act and any kind of emotions and this suits my coldness completely. Annabelle seemed to enjoy herself every bit as much as the other two and has started to touch me at any given moment. I like it when she does that and more than once, the thought of being alone with her in our bunk beds and what will happen then, flashes across my mind, inappropriately.

The first time Katy hit me with the heavy leather floggers, I almost went into orbit as Carlisle fucked me and rubbed my prostate repeatedly. My cock was so painful, trapped as it was, that I almost safe worded but I managed to stop myself and instead, threw myself into eating out and fingering Annabelle with such frantic gusto that she came and squirted in a large arc. Every movement stopped instantly as a stunned, shocked silence fell over the room.

"How in the name of fuck did you make her do that?" Katy asked before she shoved a quivering, panting Anna out of the way and instructed me to do the same to her. When, less than ten minutes later, she suffered the same type of climax and I opened my mouth, swallowing down her cum, Carlisle lost his shit and fucked me so hard I was sure I wouldn't be able to sit down for a fortnight.

It was a good night.

"Well? Shall we ask this pretty boy to sign our contract already, Katy?" Carlisle asks again.

"Yes, it was bloody marvellous," Katy says, nodding as she reaches over to grab a pile of white napkins with her damp and still slightly sticky fingers. "I've never known anyone as willing or capable of pleasing us all. And to make us both squirt? Fuck! That's never happened to me before, Edward! I'm still in shock. I wish you knew how that felt, Carlisle! I'm still shaking now! Good thing I've got napkins to fold or I'd be making you do it again, boy! From now on, you two will give each other a caffeine enema before you come down stairs for us though, okay? You made a wee bit of a mess of my husband, boy. Though, right now, I don't think he minds very much, do you love?" she laughs. "Thank him Annabelle. Thank Edward for helping your submission."

I don't mind having an enema and certainly don't need any help having one. It always gets me in the correct mind set and sort of highlights my arse and makes me excited for what is about to happen to me. Riley insisted that both Jacinta and I had one before our weekend sessions together because he wanted us all to indulge in anal play. I used to lie in a bath, legs up on the sides with a narrow tube up my backside. A hot water bottle filled with warm soapy water hung from the shower pole as it filled my bowels, ready to wash away anything inside. I always ended up making a mad dash to the toilet ten minutes later and sadly sometimes didn't make it in time. That was the bit I hated, cleaning up the mess. Ugh.

I loved the way it felt when Annabelle had slipped into a harness adorned with a medium sized dildo and had fucked me from behind. She was wrapped tightly around me as she thrust into me, digging her nails into my pectoral muscles and it felt amazing. The dildo wasn't really big enough for me but the fact that she was wearing it was probably my favourite act of the night. I was becoming fond of her. Yes, sexually, I fancied her but it was more than that, I had a feeling that she would be a bit like Jasper, my wingman—or rather girl—and that we were going to become good friends.

"Annabelle!" a deep voice barks. "Will you do as I damned well tell you? Thank the boy!"

Annabelle's shoulders tense at Katy's instructions, and I can only guess that she isn't happy by that assessment or order, to be honest. "Thank you for your willingness to do whatever is asked of you. However deviant or different," she says, sounding pissed off. "I'll have to see if I can make you lose control next time… I've never squirted before… that was… um… yeah… oh, and thanks for _helping _me with my submission."

That makes me smile. She can fucking try to make me lose control… but it's unlikely that she will succeed and to be honest, I'm sure that she's pissed off with Katy's view of the scene, I didn't do anything to help her submit, she did that all by herself.

"You are one hot fuck, Edward Cullen," Carlisle says, breathlessly as he reaches over to me, stroking along my jaw lightly, making me shudder. "And I really hope you agree to sign a contract with us, baby, I really do. I hope that you want that to. I hope you want it, Edward. Do you? And when we do—and if we do it, I hope that it's very soon, because I can't wait for you to call me Master, and of course, the thought of hearing you calling me '_Daddy'_ is making me hard again already… I might just need you to suck my cock again before I dismiss you for the night and let you two clean the place up ready to start all over again tomorrow… I think, dear," he says, turning to his wife, "that these two must share the mattress on the floor tonight… we need to get another quilt out of the press. I can't be parted from, Edward at all this weekend . I want him to beg his daddy to fuck him before the night is through…" he says licking his lips slowly as he looks down at my cock that's the limpest it's ever been.

My smile freezes on my lips as his words sink in to my hyper stimulated, hormone raddled, exhausted brain.

"What?" I gasp out, sitting up properly and speaking without permission for the first time, "You want me to fucking well do _WHAT_? Are you kidding me? TELL me that you are having a joke, Carlisle, for fuck's sake!" I say, totally stunned into disbelief.

"Edward!" he barks. "Are you seriously talking to me without asking my permission first, boy? Didn't I explain to you that that was the first rule that you have to obey along with stillness and silence other than safe wording?" Carlisle snaps. "You WILL do as I demand and you WILL call me daddy! You WILL! I will be your nurturing, mentoring father figure and as such, I demand that you call me DADDY! All my male submissives call me daddy whilst I'm training them!"

As I stare at him with a feeling of absolute horror and a ball of cum laded vomit threatens to make an unwelcome appearance, I curl my lip at the thought of calling a man that I had respected, fancied and let fuck me, _'Daddy_,' and sighing, I stand up without breaking eye contact, and say, "Permission to speak_, Sir_?"

"What are you doing? I didn't tell you to stand up, Edward? Sit back down right now! And if you must speak, do it once and do it quickly," he says, sharply. "And without the fucking attitude, boy, or I will whip it out of you!"

Nodding, I inhale slowly, look at Katy, then Annabelle, who is still on her knees, at Katy's feet, looking down, and then back at Carlisle, close my eyes briefly and clasp my hands behind my back.

"Money."

…**.….**

**My poor baby boy has terrible father issues and this demand was one step too far for him. **

**Sadly, Carlisle, Katy and Annabelle don't know any of this, of course. But he does, and there's no way he would indulge that sort of name calling or play with someone he has to call 'Daddy.'**

**So… there you go. I hope you enjoyed their first and potentially last scene together. Horny little shit, isn't he?**

**Carlisle didn't mean anything by his name request, before any of you get your knickers in a twist, in many BDSM partnerships, submissives call their master "daddy." It isn't something I could ever stomach doing but it takes all sorts. In fairness, Edward hasn't told him about his difficult family relationships so Carlisle and Katy don't know, let's see what happens next, shall we?**

**I think Carlisle might be a wee bit smitten with the pretty one already, don't you? Thank Christ Katy is totally oblivious to it all. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Well, most of you liked the last chapter. Some wanted it to be more lemony but please remember, there were three new characters to get to know so I had to make it sort of believable! I now remember why I stopped writing it and deleted it in the first place! So few of you read it! Oh well… takes the pressure off me I guess, I will update as and when I feel like it and the handful of you who did review, enjoyed it and thanks for your very kind words.**

**This next chapter has been a pig to write I don't really know why but I just didn't have the heart to start it for a very long time. If this chapter isn't up to its usual standards, please understand why. Losing all four of my last remaining fur angels in twelve months has really knocked the stuffing out of me, but I've done my best.**

**Okay. Whinge over. **

…**.**

**Thank you to Laura for all your love, care and support with my writing, you mean the world to me sweets. **

**Katy, my face book wifey, thank you so much for pre-reading this for me, it's good to have you back on board sweets.**

**This chapter is dedicated to all of you who have stuck with me from the beginning, hugs and squeezes from old London town, sappy I know, but I really do mean it, without many of you, I would have fallen apart on more than one occasion!**

**I don't own Twilight, the labially opulent Stephanie Meyer does. I do however own all plots, new characters and story lines. Please don't translate my story; the humour doesn't work in other languages.**

**This story is rated M/NC17. It is a BDSM story, and as such, it contains content that is graphic and may be deemed as abusive, it isn't. It's consensual. There are scenes of hard core sex, slash, bondage and multiple pairings. You have been warned. If you are easily offended, bugger off.**

**The harpies wanted to be mentioned in this story for once, and so, the girls and I proudly present:**

**SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO NOW?**

**CHAPTER 9**

"**Oh yeeeeeaaaaah****  
****Wooh!****  
****Darling you got to let me know****  
****Should I stay or should I go?****  
****If you say that you are mine****  
****I'll be here 'til the end of time****  
****So you got to let me know****  
****Should I stay or should I go?******

**Always tease tease tease****  
****You're happy when I'm on my knees****  
****One day is fine, next day is black****  
****So if you want me off your back****  
****Well come on and let me know****  
****Should I stay or should I go?******

**Should I stay or should I go now?****  
****Should I stay or should I go now?****  
****If I go there will be trouble****  
****An' if I stay it will be double****  
****So come on and let me know!******

**This indecision's bugging me****  
****Esta indecision me molesta****  
****If you don't want me, set me free****  
****Si no me quieres, librame****  
****Exactly whom I'm supposed to be****  
****Dime que tengo que ser****  
****Don't you know which clothes even fit me?****  
****¿sabes que ropas me quedan?****  
****Come on and let me know****  
****Me tienes que decir****  
****Should I cool it or should I blow?****  
****¿me debo ir o quedarme?******

**Split!****  
****Yo me enfrio o lo sufro******

**Should I stay or should I go now?****  
****yo me enfrio o lo sufro****  
****Should I stay or should I go now?****  
****yo me enfrio o lo sufro****  
****If I go there will be trouble****  
****Si me voy - va a haber peligro****  
****And if I stay it will be double****  
****Si me quedo es doble****  
****So you gotta let me know****  
****Pero me tienes que decir****  
****Should I cool it or should I go?****  
****yo me enfrio o lo sufro******

**Should I stay or should I go now?****  
****yo me enfrio o lo sufro****  
****If I go there will be trouble****  
****Si me voy - va a haber peligro****  
****And if I stay it will be double****  
****Si me quedo es doble****  
****So you gotta let me know****  
****Pero me tienes que decir****  
****Should I stay or should I go****?**

**The Clash**

…

***Reminder**

**Edward's Safe Words**

**Green = Law**

**Yellow = Rose**

**Red = Money **

**Previously**

"**Edward!" he barks. "Are you seriously talking to me without asking my permission first, boy? Didn't I explain to you that that was the first rule that you have to obey along with stillness and silence other than safe wording?" Carlisle snaps. "You WILL do as I demand and you WILL call me daddy! You WILL! I will be your nurturing, mentoring father figure and as such, I demand that you call me DADDY! All my male submissives call me daddy whilst I'm training them!"**

**As I stare at him with a feeling of absolute horror and a ball of cum laden vomit threatens to make an unwelcome appearance, I curl my lip at the thought of calling a man that I had respected, fancied and let fuck me, **_**'Daddy**_**,' and sighing, I stand up without breaking eye contact, and say, "Permission to speak**_**, Sir**_**?"**

"**What are you doing? I didn't tell you to stand up, Edward? Sit back down right now! And if you must speak, do it once and do it quickly," he says, sharply. "And without the fucking attitude, boy, or I will whip it out of you!"**

**Nodding, I inhale slowly, look at Katy, then Annabelle, who is still on her knees, at Katy's feet, looking down, and then back at Carlisle, close my eyes briefly and clasp my hands behind my back.**

"**Money."**

…**.**

"What do you mean, _'Money'?"_ Carlisle asks, staring at me, horrified before he looks at Katy and then at me again. "Are you seriously using your safe word? Are you, Edward?"

"Yes." I say, giving no explanation. "Yes, I am using my safe word, Sir."

"Why are you doing this?" he asks as he grabs my shoulders and stares at me so intently that I have to look away. "What did I do to you? Did I hurt you? Did I frighten you? I've never had a submissive safe word with me before! Katy! What did I do wrong? KATY?"

"Calm down, Carlisle. Don't upset yourself because you did absolutely nothing wrong, love," Katy says, frowning at me. "I don't know what happened, but you did nothing out of place because I was watching you both closely. You're an expert, darling; you know your own limits and how to push others limits safely within their parameters. You give our submissives what they need and crave, the same as I do. We've studied his lists countless times together, sweetie. This has nothing to do with you. Edward, what on earth's the matter with you? Why are you upset?"

"I'm not fucking upset, Katy!" I say, utterly affronted they could think that this shit had upset me. "I'm NOT upset, not at all, I'm just fucking angry! I will NEVER call you, or anyone else '_DADDY_!' Do you get that, Carlisle? Do you? For the love of fuck, why do you even want to be called that? Why would you want to fuck me in the mouth and arse and then have me call you _that_? That's utterly perverted and disgusting! Don't you think so?" I ask, horrified by the turn of events.

Twenty minutes ago, I was fucking them or was being fucked by them in one way or another, and was happy to let them do whatever they wanted to me. And now I'm the one who has fucked up because of my abject hatred of my father. I feel nothing but disgust at Carlisle's need to be called by a name so offensive to me and the mere thought of it turns my stomach.

"Why not? It's a very common term in the BDSM lifestyle, Edward, surely you knew that? It simply means that I'm the one who looks after you! There's no other meaning to it! None at all! You don't think that it has overtones of incest or paedophilia to it, do you? Because I can assure you, boy, nothing could be further from the truth!" he asks, looking appalled.

"Don't be silly, Carlisle!" Katy interjects, "No one would ever think anything of the sort! That's just absurd!"

"You don't think that, do you?" he asks, his voice cracking as he does so. "It's simply a name that I like my male submissives to address me by, the same as I like '_Master_' from my female submissives. You know all of this, Edward! You must do, you said you'd researched all aspects of the lifestyle thoroughly, not just the sexual side! You must have known!"

"Yes, of course I knew that! I did my research and I'm not stupid you know! But we hadn't discussed it and that's just too perverted for me!" I say, as I swipe my hand angrily across my eyes as traitorous tears threaten to fall.

I don't cry! What the fuck's wrong with me?

"It isn't a perversion, Edward!" Annabelle gasps out, "It's just a nurturing terminology! Like '_pet' _or '_girl'_ or '_slut' _or _'boy' _or even _'Mistress'—_it doesn't mean anything offensive! It's a NAME! Shit… I don't get this! As Carlisle said, it's a term of endearment and one that gives the dominant or dominatrix power over you, and takes the emotion out of a scene by removing your given name, stop over reacting, Edward!"

"Thanks for the lecture, bitch!" I spit out at her. "I don't want you getting involved! It's got fuck all to do with you!"

"Fuck you, Cullen!"

"ENOUGH!" Katy barks, shutting us both up instantly, "ANNABELLE! You were NOT given permission to talk and this is between Carlisle, Edward and me. It has NOTHING to do with you! Sit on the floor and face the wall! KNEEL! DO IT!" she yells, making Annabelle flinch and drop to the ground in her inspection position without saying another word. "We will discuss your insubordination later, girl, but for now, stay where you are and be quiet. You're in enough trouble as it is. BEHAVE! Now," she says, turning her back on her silent submissive, "Don't be worried, Edward, just talk to me and tell me why you're so upset?"

"_I don't want to talk to you or to him!"_ I hiss out angrily. "I want to go home!" I spit out, "I want to leave!"

"Scene over, everyone. I think we all need to calm this down and to do that, we must leave the dungeon, Katy," Carlisle says, quietly, looking pale and drawn. "Annabelle, please take Edward up to your rooms and ensure that he showers. I expect you to bring him back to me, in the sitting room, in one hour. If he still wants to leave, please ensure that he's suitably attired and has all his possessions with him and we will cancel our agreement accordingly. Nod if you understand me, girl."

He sounds dejected but formal too and I know that my actions have ruined the day, but that's just too bad. I can't do what he wants and now I need to go home. I don't look up but I presume that she nods because she stands and walks towards me.

"Don't worry about cleaning the dungeon, Annabelle, I'll take care of it whilst you deal with Edward…" he says so quietly that I have to struggle to hear him. I'm aware of whispering to the side of me, but I can't catch what's being said. I guess that Anna is being given some sort of instructions by Katy because suddenly she grabs my clammy palm and yanks me from the room so quickly that I skid and almost fall over the wings that are lying in a heap on the floor.

"What the hell are you doing, Anna?" I ask as she starts to pull me up the stairs. "I want to go home! Let fucking go of me! What the hell is wrong with everyone in this fucking house? Do you all speak a foreign language? RED! RED! RED! I want to go home!" I yell as I try and drag my hand away from hers. "Get off me, Annabelle! I WANT TO LEAVE!" I shout loudly, and wriggling, I look behind me and see that Katy now has her arms wrapped around her still naked husband, comforting him.

"Shut up! STOP IT NOW, EDWARD!" she says and she grips me surprisingly tightly, digging her nails into my knuckles with so much force; I'm convinced she must have drawn blood.

"LET GO OF ME!" I shout, "I WANT TO GO HOME! THIS WAS A MISTAKE! THIS LIFE ISNT FOR ME! IT WAS A MISTAKE FOR ME TO COME HERE!"

Stopping suddenly, Annabelle yanks her hand from mine and slaps me hard around the face. "WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN TO ME FOR FIVE MINUTES, YOU SPOILED BRAT! HOW OLD ARE YOU? EIGHTEEN OR EIGHT?" she yells, stunning me into immobilised silence.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? HITTING ME? ARE YOU INSANE? THAT'S FUCKING IT!" I yell out, enraged that she's dared to lay a finger on me.

"SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!" she shouts back.

"Don't you fucking speak to me like that! Let go of me! I'm leaving and I'm leaving right now!" I yelp out in response but with far less anger and fervour now. Her outburst has somewhat deflated my bubble of rage. "I came here to fuck and learn something new and what happens? I get asked to call someone a ridiculous name and now you HIT me?"

"Are you nuts? Do you really want to go home looking like that?" she asks jabbing me painfully just next to my left nipple. "You wouldn't get five minutes down the road before you were either arrested or sent to the local loony bin! You're hot and sweaty and covered in four different people's cum, including your own, you arse! You wouldn't get very far looking like that would you, Edward? You're naked and you're covered in love bites, sweat and every bodily fluid known to mankind, you fool! Your back, arse and upper thighs are crimson and covered in welts from the flogging, how do you expect to travel across London looking like that? Naked with a noughts and crosses board marked out nicely on your bare cheeks?"

Dammit.

She has a point.

We climb the never ending staircases in silence, the only sounds that I'm aware of are the thudding of our feet on the bare wood as well as the rushing and pounding of my blood through my ears and Annabelle's increased respiration as my mind percolates what has just happened.

As we reach our room, Annabelle shoves me through the door and slams it closed behind us with so much force that the windows rattle before she spins and pushes me firmly against the wall. She hurls me backwards so hard that I smack my head off the plaster and I gasp out, shocked at how strong she is.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?" I shout at her as I rub the back of my still sweat dampened hair.

"_What the fuck was that?"_ she asks through clenched teeth, gesturing towards the door with her thumb. _"What the hell is the matter with you, Edward? Downstairs, what was that show for? Huh? Weren't you getting enough attention from Carlisle? Well? He couldn't keep his eyes, hands and cock off you all day, so what more did you want? Huh? Katy and I got the leftover crumbs from you both… what more did you want from him? He couldn't have cared less if we were there or not! He's fucking obsessed with you already, pretty boy!"_

Wow.

Jealous, much!

"Don't be so ridiculous! You all got fucked by me!" I say, stunned at her outburst.

"Yeah… by you 'Mr "I've got more sperm than a blue whale" Cullen!" she says, curling her lip. "You are some sort of '_fuck wonder boy,'_ aren't you? No wonder Carlisle can't get enough of you! Have you always been like this? I've never known anyone who has such a quick recovery turn around! You disgust me!"

"You didn't fucking say that when I was eating you out, did you?" I say to her, cocking my eye brow. "You couldn't get enough of my tongue, could you, bitch?"

"FUCK YOU, CULLEN!" she yells at me, suddenly florid in the face with watery eyes that look alarmingly as if she's about to burst into tears. "TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK THAT OUTBURST WAS ALL ABOUT? TELL ME!"

"I don't want to talk about it! It's got sod all to do with you! What the hell has it got to do with you? Huh? Just leave me alone!" I say, plonking down on one of the chairs and drop my head in my hands. I'm bare bollock naked and the hard wooden chair is both cold and uncomfortable on my freshly flogged backside. As I move, I flinch slightly. _"I'm going to have a shower… do you mind? I would much rather be on my own whilst I get ready to leave…"_ I mutter, my clipped upper class tones coming to the fore as they always do when I'm stressed.

"Stop being a brat!" she exclaims. "Just tell me what the hell is so wrong with giving Carlisle what he wants? He needs his boys to call him 'Daddy,' and I really don't know what's so hard and wrong with that? Just explain it to me and if you still want to leave, I'll even help you pack your shit and will kick your arse out of the door, gladly!"

"Shut the fuck up, Annabelle! I'm not telling you anything about it! It's none of your bloody business! It's private! I can't tell you! It hurts too much and it's too fucking embarrassing!" I say and against my wishes, fat tears slither down my cheeks.

"Oh." She says, quietly. "I'm… um… I'm… sorry, Eddie… I didn't think…"

"No you didn't fucking think, did you! You just went on and on and on until I couldn't take any more! HAPPY NOW?" I yelp out as I grab a tissue from the box on the desk and wipe my eyes before I blow my streaming nose, loudly. "Now I look like a total idiot! Thanks!"

"Don't be pathetic and quit over reacting. You don't look like an idiot! You're crying? Who cares whether you look silly or not! You don't look stupid!" she snaps. "Well, you do a bit because your nose is red and it clashes with your ginger hair and makes your eyes look way too green!" she sniggers as she shimmies closer to me. "You should have been born a girl. Those eyelashes make me want to puke. I have to use falsies and tons of mascara; your eyelashes could sweep the sodding floor! No wonder Carlisle can't resist you, pretty boy! You have the body of a fucking porn star, a cock that doesn't look real but that fucking hits every erogenous zone known to human kind, and then some, and the face of a model. I hate you."

Ugh.

"You're a total cow, do you know that?" I ask, sniffing and trying not to smile at her grinning face.

"Have you just realised that? Blimey… I thought you were clever? Katy says you want to be a lawyer? You'd better learn to read people better if that's what you want to be, boy!" she laughs. "I've always been an utter bitch!" Glowering at her, I go to stand up but she shakes her head and pushes my chest, forcing me down again. "But seriously now, if you don't want to talk to me, Edward, I can't make you and I know that. You still owe those two downstairs a bloody explanation. You know that, don't you? They are stunned and shocked down there. I've known them for a while now and I've never seen Carlisle look so upset." She says, crouching down beside me, still naked. "The whole point in the lifestyle is that you're completely honest with one another. Limits are set for a reason, I know this is your first experience of playing like this but it certainly isn't theirs and I know for a fact that they would have ensured all paperwork was completed well in advance. Yes?" she asks. Looking at her, I nod, because it was. "I don't like being fucked anally very much," she says. "Oh, its okay and I can get off on it but I find it uncomfortable and although I agreed to anal sex on my limits list, they don't force me to do it that often. I like a vibrator being used far more than a cock, I don't know why, I just do. Be honest with them, Edward. Please." She implores, patting my upper thigh, soothingly. "I want you to stay with us because I like you, despite what I said before. But if you don't tell them why you can't, or won't, do this, they'll have no choice but to terminate the idea of any agreement between you all. They're hugely in demand in the life style partly because of their professionalism, but also because of their kindness and experience. Tell them… for your own sake… as well as theirs… and mine… I want you to stay…"

Looking at her, I don't say a word.

She's right.

And she wants me to stay.

She cares already?

Why does she give a shit about me?

"Why?" I ask.

"What?"

"Why do you want me to stay?" I ask again. "You don't want me here… I heard you talking to Katy when I arrived… why have you changed your mind? I don't understand?"

"Well… against my better judgement I quite like you… I didn't want to, I really didn't but you looked after me today and that meant a lot to me. I was jealous and still wish Carlisle looked at me the way he looks at you but I'll get over that. I'm not in love with him and it's safer that he isn't obsessed with me. You might have a bit of trouble with him liking you so much… and then there's that massive thing…" she says pointing to my flaccid cock. "You know how to use it… better than any other bloke I've ever been with and that means I'm willing to put up with you and your mouthy, arrogant crap… I liked you fucking me… and I like you… Your tongue and fingers aren't too bad when you use them either…"

Running my fingers through my sweat soaked hair, I sigh, lean back and close my eyes. I wasn't expecting her to say any of that. I thought she hated me.

"You have to talk to them, Edward." She says, seriously now.

I know she's right but I don't think I can do it. I don't think I can talk about it with them and I certainly don't want to. I've never told anyone, not even Jasper, about my relationship or lack of one with my father. They just know my mother died having me and my father died before I hit my teenage years. They have no idea that I was totally unwanted and was brought up by a string of nannies and housekeepers with no input, other than financially, from a relative. They know about my negligent aunt, but that's it. People always assume that money can salve any wound.

It can't.

I didn't want my father's money, but it was all left to me as there was no one else. However, now I have it, I put it to good use. How can I explain to them that by giving his money away to causes he would have hated, I feel like I'm getting my own back without sounding pathetic?

He saw everything in black and white, and there were no grey areas in his mind. I remember overhearing a conversation he was having with a business colleague who was very much a humanitarian at the house one Sunday afternoon. They had an elaborate Sunday lunch together in the dining room. I had a similar meal but ate in the kitchen with the housekeeper. I preferred it that way regardless of the fact that I had no choice because we never ate a meal together. He said very vociferously that he thought addictions were people's choices so they shouldn't be offered help and ridiculed his friend for donating to charity. He continued that even if people were on benefits through ill health, he said if they drank or smoked their welfare should be removed.

He didn't have a kind, caring or compassionate bone in his entire being but my mother did. Part of her Will stated that she wanted to set up a scholarship for musical students from less privileged backgrounds in my name. My father overrode this and her money was assimilated into the Cullen fortune with clever wangling via his lawyers. The second I came into the first part of my family fortune, I made huge donations to centres that helped both drug addicts and alcoholics and set up a special scholarship in my mother's name. The Elizabeth Cullen Bursary at the Royal Academy of Music has just announced its first beneficiaries and I like to think that my mother would be proud of me for this action. My father, on the other hand, would be utterly horrified.

See what I mean? Anything I could do to go against his wishes, I did. He wanted me to join the family business. I didn't. I kept the management team in place, and applied to study the law instead.

"Come on, Edward," she says, more gently now, "Talk to me… please… I'm a good listener… come on…"

"I don't think I can…" I say, barely above a whisper as I stare at her, allowing my tears to spill freely now. "I've never… told… um…"

"You've never told anyone that you like being hurt when you get fucked? Is that it? Are you overwhelmed by all of this? Because if you are, don't worry, we all are at first. It comes with the territory. Giving yourself away as it were is an odd thing and you hit an emotional wall. It gets easier after the first couple of weekends, I promise you! In the end, that level of adrenaline just adds to it all. It's great! I haven't been fucked away from the dungeon or a play party since. I just want to. I crave what a dominant, and dominatrix, can do to my body… Christ… the first time I was with a woman was… shit…" she says, drifting away. "Sorry… sorry, Edward… sorry… I should be listening to you… not remembering her mouth… and that fucking dildo… oh God…"

"Enjoying memory lane?" I ask, sighing.

"Sorry! RIGHT! Focus, Annabelle!" she snaps trying to rein her memories in. "Talk to me, Eddie! If it's just your perversions that worry you, don't even think about it! Wait until we take you to a party and you see grown men wearing nappies! They even have 'nanny' subs who wipe their bums. Just about anything goes, love, and as long as it's consensual and you're over age, who cares?"

"No… it's not… um… it's not that… it's just that… I… um… I didn't… like him… he didn't want… um… that's to say… he… er… I didn't like him…"

"Carlisle?" she gasps, "You didn't like Carlisle? Why on earth not? Carlisle is wonderful! He's just perfect… he's the most wonderful dominant in the world… we're so, so very lucky. You do know that, don't you? Everyone envies us because he owns us. You just wait. Other subs sidle up at parties and ask what he's like when he's off duty and what he's like when he punishes me. I love it! It makes me feel really special and I know I'm really blessed that he chose me. He's remarkable! He's the best and I absolutely adore him… I don't know what he did to make you not like him! Why don't you like him?"

"Don't be fucking stupid, Annabelle!" I say firmly, "Carlisle is great! I don't mean him! I didn't like my father! My father! Not Carlisle!"

"Oh come on! Are you telling me that all this tantrum bullshit is because you didn't like your dad? Seriously? And? So what? I hate mine!"

"What?"

"You didn't think you were the only one who had a crap father did you? Huh! Mine is a total knob! He's an arrogant fucker who always thought that throwing money at me made him a great parent. It didn't! I had money to burn and often just gave it away to friends because I neither wanted, nor needed it, but thanks to it, I had a great education. Since I moved to this part of London to be near Carlisle and Katy, they haven't even been in touch with me once. Oh, my allowance goes into the bank like clockwork every Friday, all my expenses are taken care of the second I send my bills to Dad's accountant, but have they rung or even sent me a text to see how I am? No." she says.

"Did you ring them?" I ask, staring at her in disbelief.

"I've tried countless times to speak to them, and all I get is their voicemail. They don't ring me back…" she says, more quietly now. "I managed to speak to Dad's PA last week when I rang to wish him a happy birthday, only to be told that they're on an extended trip to Thailand. They have no idea where I'm living, let alone that I'm involved in something as 'unsavoury' as BDSM. My mother would class this as vulgar and a phase I was going through, and frankly wouldn't give a shit as long as their friends never found out. How much worse could yours have been? I was sent off to Marlborough Lady's College when I was eleven. I was in prep school before that and was looked after by a nanny. I rarely saw them and even on school holidays, when we travelled, the nanny came too. I've got enough money in my trust fund to buy a house and start a business of my own outright when I've finished university. I'm studying Business Management and quite like the idea of starting up a high class BDSM club of my own in the West End. Dad is horrified that I'm studying something like that. He thinks all women should be kept out of the business world. He doesn't think that a '_young lady' _should work in any way and even tried to send me off to a finishing school in Switzerland to 'polish me up' so that some chinless _'hooray henry'_ would take me off his hands and perhaps even add a title to the family. Stupid arse. What was yours like? Your background is even posher than mine so I'm guessing you saw your folks less than I did? What do they do? Do they know you're involved in this shit? Do they even care?"

Christ.

It would seem that our childhoods mirrored one another's, apart from the fact that she had a mother.

"Um…" I begin. "Um… pretty similar… but I hated my father… I didn't just think he was a prick… I truly, truly hate even the memory of him… he didn't want me…"

"Huh… well mine's a total dick so what's so different?" she asks, clasping my hand in hers again and tugs me over to the rug in the middle of the room and yanks me downwards. "Tell me. And make it snappy, we have less than forty minutes left before they come knocking for us."

"My parents are both dead." I say, flatly.

"Oh." She says, simply. I'm suddenly aware that I'm sitting naked, cross legged on a multi coloured, shag pile rug opposite an equally naked girl. It's quite disconcerting to be honest and my eyes keep dropping to her uncovered pussy. I can't keep my eyes away from the way that her clit shows because there's no hair there at all.

"Stop looking at my crotch, Edward, you've been up there more than I expected today and it's still fucking aching from having that thing wedged inside it!" she says, pointing at my newly risen erection. "You can just have a wank because you aren't getting anywhere near me again for the foreseeable future and you won't get near those two downstairs either if you don't spill! And if you're a good boy, I'll put my clit stud in and show you what that feels like when you next fuck me! BUT only if you tell me the rest of your sob story and stop being a fucking baby!"

God she's bossy.

I like her very much.

Smiling for the first time in what seems like hours, I feel the tension leave my body and I slump slightly. "Clit stud?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. "I didn't know you had your clit pierced?" I say.

"And my tongue!" she giggles before she sticks it out and wiggles it around in front of me. "I'll put that in before I suck your cock again, Edward, you won't last five minutes when the little ball rubs up and down your shaft, boy!"

"Want to bet?" I laugh trying to cross my legs as my cock instantly gets even harder.

Sigh.

"Come on!" she whines.

"I don't want to tell anyone in case they think I need this life to make up for having no family!" I say, throwing my hands up, exasperated.

"You know, Edward, joking apart, I had a lonely childhood, family wise, but that isn't why I like being whipped. I don't need this to salve my past and all that crap! People constantly say pain sluts like me get off on being hurt and what could be perceived as being abused because of shitty childhoods. That, in my opinion, is bollocks. I like to cross the pain threshold because it makes me cum harder. Simple as. I can get off on not being hurt, but like I said, it makes things more intense. That's why now and then Carlisle insists on fucking my arse. He knows that the discomfort of it as well as the way he tugs the nipple clamps that he attaches to my bar bells, having Katy flog me at the same time, makes everything so intense that I whizz off into sub space. He KNOWS what I need and exactly when I need it. He's that good at what he does. He can read my body in ways I wouldn't have thought possible. He gives me what I need before I even know I need it. He's a remarkable man. He truly is and Katy is every bit as good with impact play. You saw what they were like today, they are amazing! If you walk away now, you'll always wonder what might have been. Won't you? And just to let you know, BDSM is something I need, it has fuck all to do with the fact that my parents are shitty. Understand that, pretty Eddie, and you'll be fine."

"Don't call me Eddie! For Christ's sake! What the fuck is wrong with you? My name is Edward. D!" I bark, slowly spelling it out in case she misses the point. "Only one friend calls me '_Eddie'_ and I fucking wish she wouldn't! I hate it! And I mean it when I say _I really_ hate it. Don't do it, Anna, I don't like it when people say I'm fucking pretty either! I'm a man, not some fucking pet poodle! AND my hair isn't ginger!"

"Christ you're so bloody uptight! You obviously need to be fucked up your bum more than you have been today. I must let them know that you need to get the humour bypass fucked out of your uptight arse! Tell Carlisle you want his dick up there again, sweetie pie! I think your balls must still be blue and full. You need to be fucked and beaten with Carlisle's belt. He should let Katy do it, you wouldn't sit down for days afterwards because she's far more sodding sadistic than he is and she uses the buckle end, but it would certainly clear your fucking mind and help you focus if he was shoved up your bum at the same time!" she says, laughing loudly.

"_Shut up, Anna. Stop being a bitch!"_ I hiss out.

"I've always been a sarky bitch! I'm not changing now for you or anyone, ginger nuts!" she laughs as she flicks her long hair over her shoulder and as she does so, part of it trails over my upper thigh. We both look down as a bead of precum trickles out of my filled slit. Great. "Do me a favour, pretty boy, and close your legs. You've got lube trickling out of your bum from where Carlisle's just been, and to be honest, it isn't the most attractive sight. Then you've got that fucking massive thing you call a cock staring at me, swaying like a frigging spitting cobra, and it's making it hard for me to concentrate!" she laughs.

She's got a great sense of humour and she doesn't take offence when I yell at her, unlike bloody Rosalie.

"Is my hard cock turning you on?" I chuckle as I grab my erection and wave it at her. "Are you getting wet yet, Anna? Do you want a rerun of our earlier session?"

"No I fucking don't, and turning me on? HA! Are you kidding me? Explain to me just what about _that_ monster could ever turn me on? Yeah… in your dreams, big boy…" she says dismissively, but she sounds slightly breathless and her cheeks and chest flush a little as her eyes roam my face and body before they fix on my cock. "BUT, you aren't getting near me again—EVER—if you don't tell me what's going on, Edward…"

Hmmm…

She isn't going to let this go…

"Okay, Annabelle," I continue, sighing. "Like you, I have father issues. Okay? He was a prick. He didn't want me. He never wanted a child at all and he found the fact that something took my mother's attention away from him totally unacceptable. He loved my mother deeply by all accounts. On the other hand, my mother wanted me desperately, and apparently, when I was born and he found out that he had a son, he was happy to have someone to carry on the family name. That was until he was told that my mother had died. He never forgave me for being the reason my mother left him. He was more than happy to pass me around a succession of nannies. I never had a conversation with him and he didn't have any time for me. I was driven to and from school every day by a chauffeur employed just for that purpose and at school open days and parent's nights, the housekeeper came with me. You had a mother who cared for you, I didn't. Mine died pushing me out. She never even got to touch me. Can you believe that? She fought for years to have a kid and she fucking died giving birth? Yeah… no wonder I don't believe there's any such thing as a God. Do you know something? Until I met my best friend, Jasper, when I was living with my aunt who only let me stay there because she was paid to have me, my clothes were falling apart. His family bought me things to wear and encouraged me to speak to the executors of my father's will so that I had money of my own. Many nights I went to bed hungry. Millions in the bank and I was allowed to go without food most nights. Crazy, huh? I rarely spoke to anyone, and had no friends. I wasn't allowed to take anyone back to the house in Highgate when my father was alive in case they broke something or spilled food on the antique rugs, and I wouldn't have wanted to take anyone back to my aunt's moth eaten tip. My room was cold and damp and I had two cats for company. Pathetic isn't it?" I say, trying to sound flippant but my voice cracks embarrassingly mid-sentence as the words keep spilling out. I don't want to tell her but now I've started talking, I can't sodding well stop and once again I wipe my tears away, but this time I pretend that I have an eyelash in my eye.

"Don't be a silly arse, Edward," she says, sighing as she reaches over and hands me another tissue. "You think I have a caring mum do you? She's alive, I'll give you that, but she might as well not be for all the good she is. Loving mother? HA! Do me a favour! My mother spends her days having tennis lessons, Zumba classes, golf lessons, shopping, going to beauty spas and drinking cocktails with her loud mouthed friends. She also fucks all her trainers because my father's impotent with her. I caught her being banged by two ski instructors in Val d'Isere. Seeing your mother being spit roasted when you're eleven isn't an altogether great way to be introduced to oral and anal sex you know? Anyway, I got even more of a shock the next day when they were with dad. I almost fell off my skis when I saw him bent over in a pine grove. It was quite funny actually, because they were doing exactly the same thing! Mum didn't think so when I told her that his cock was being swallowed by the bloke who was buried in her throat the day before. Dad's more gay than bisexual and I was a disappointment to them both. He's been screwing his male assistant for the last couple of years and he's even in Thailand with them, if you can believe that, as is her hairdresser who she fucks all the time. No one is meant to know about this part of their lives, but it's an open secret in our family. He married my mother to get an heir and a spare at the insistence of my old bitch of a grandmother. Well, that was a fucking disaster. She miscarried the spare a year after I was born. It was a boy, and she couldn't have any more after that. They were left with a buck toothed, cross eyed, shy daughter who wouldn't say boo to a goose and who was more interested in ponies than boys. Yeah… that changed when I was seduced and fucked by one of the stable boys. My mother is beautiful. I mean _really_ beautiful. My father is rakishly handsome, and I look like neither of them. She drinks to dull the pain of his constant rejection and she can't divorce him because they have to keep up this happy family façade and if she did, she would lose both her standing in society and her money. I don't know why they bother pretending that they are love's middle aged dream. Mum's shagged most of her friends' husbands. And so has dad." she says, sighing.

"And you're okay with them being like that?" I ask.

She shrugs, "It's got nothing to do with me, has it? It's their life and who knows what happened to them in their childhood to make them like that? All I know is that both my grandmothers are bitches and my grandfathers do nothing but play golf and quaff whiskey. They aren't interested in their wives who play bridge and gossip about everyone else. If I have kids, do you imagine they would be thrilled knowing that I've signed my body over to strangers to do with as they want to? Do you? Of course they wouldn't. None of us want to think of our parents as anything different and certainly not as sexual beings."

She has a point.

In fact, she has many valid, interesting points and two of them are a lovely dark amber rust colour, pierced with silver bars and are pointed in my direction. They may be small but they're lovely.

"Will you stop staring at my tits, Eddie…" she whispers as she leans towards me, twirling one of my waves between her thumb and forefinger, grinning.

"You're lovely, Anna," I say, honestly. "Why on earth would your parents find you a disappointment?"

"I'm clever."

"What do you mean?" I ask, scratching my head in confusion.

"They would rather I was pretty and stupid instead of smart and plain. Simple as. Do you know what my real talent is? Apart from being a fucking good fuck, Cullen?" she asks, grinning.

"Surprise me," I say, finding her barbells very distracting. "And honestly, Anna, I think you're very pretty and anything but bloody plain!"

"Well, thank you for saying that, but you won't believe me when I tell you what my skill is, Edward!" she giggles. Cocking my eyebrow at her, she smiles brightly and continues. "It's languages. I can pick up languages like few others can. I had nannies from all over Europe so I soon caught on and got quite an ear for it. I'm fluent in German, French and Spanish and can get by in Italian and Russian. They stopped getting badly paid au pairs though after I stood up at one of Grandma's bridge parties and yelled _"__John Withenshaw egy fasszopó!"_ she laughs.

Frowning, I stare at her. "I have no idea what that even means!"

"I'm getting to that! Stop rushing me! That particular au pair was sacked with a reference immediately when my parents realised I'd shouted "_John Withenshaw is a cock sucker!"_ in Hungarian. They didn't know what I'd said at the time, of course, but because I'd yelled at the Grande Dame of Hertfordshire, I was told to go and sit in the library and entertain myself and leave the adults alone. I was angry at being left on my own, _again, _so shouted at her again, telling her that she was a sour old bag. For the second outburst, I went to bed hungry that night. Yeah… I hadn't known what my au pair was muttering about my father every time he castigated either of us and I was only really young at the time! The next day when dad repeated what I'd said during a business lunch, thinking it was something cute and cuddly to try and impress his peers and lying that he was a wonderful father. It wasn't until a Slovakian banker burst out laughing and said that never a truer word had been uttered about my father. Anyway, poor Silvia was mortified and my father sacked her over the telephone straight away. She was lovely and I missed her when she left, but I still have an arsenal of Hungarian swear words ready for anyone who pisses me off!" she finishes, laughing loudly.

"Well I think you're a cunning linguist, Anna, you certainly know how to use your tongue during a scene… I can't wait to feel that stud sliding up and down my cock…" I say, winking at her.

"Fuck off, Cullen," she grumbles. "You have a fucking sex track mind, shut your gob and listen to my sob story, I've listened to yours! Anyway, the upshot of it all was, I was packed off to boarding school at the first opportunity and my parents only saw me during holidays, and even then, there was a live in nanny to keep me out of their hair."

She looks so sad when she explains this and I realise how similar our childhoods really were. Other than I went hungry far more often than she did.

"You didn't really yell that out in front of your Grandmother, did you, Anna?" I laugh, impressed by her strong personality. "Jesus… even I would struggle to do that in front of my horrid aunt!"

"Yes. And even though I didn't know what I was saying, it was the fucking truth, he truly is a cock sucker in every meaning of the phrase!" she says, angrily. "So what killed your dick of a father then?"

"Well, I was told that he was on some huge fund raising thing in South Africa in a bid to save the Black Rhino." I say.

"Wow. So he was a philanthropist then? He can't have been all bad, Eddie boy," she says, scowling at me.

"He was. He was actually there buying up huge swathes of land because there was some mineral or other that he wanted to get his filthy hands on and he was in a luxury camp site, fucking his secretary when one of the Rhino's charged! The irony of that isn't lost on me!" I chuckle.

"How do you know that's what happened?" Anna asks looking unconvinced.

"His assistant was telling one of the executors of his Estate at the funeral what had happened. I was hiding behind a curtain, listening in on their conversation. I had no idea what was going to happen to me after he died and no one saw fit to tell me so I figured if I hung around long enough, I would over hear something. I didn't expect the funeral to be as light hearted as it was and the only two people who cried for him was my nanny and his secretary. And he was screwing them both at the same time. It came as a fucking shock to them both when he left them nothing, I can tell you! Everything was left to me. I'm sure he would have changed his Will if he'd known he was about to croak because his feelings were totally ambivalent towards me. I think he would have left it all to anyone or anything else, instead of to me, if he'dhad the time to do that." I hear myself saying this, sounding both flat and bitter to my own ears.

"I know how that feels…" Anna says, biting her thumb nail as her face contorts in pain.

"Does it still upset you that they don't want you around?" I ask, already knowing the answer. She looks up at me sadly, and without giving her a chance to answer, I grab the back of her head and press our mouths together firmly.

Before I know what's happening, I've pushed her backwards on the rug, fingers laced in one of her hands and I'm on top of her, kissing her passionately, pulling her hair firmly with my other one. As she wraps her legs around my waist, I push a finger inside of her and she groans loudly as she yanks my hair from the roots so tightly, I wince in pain and add a second digit, rubbing her g-spot much to her delight by the whimpers she's emitting.

"What are we doing?" she pants, briefly pulling our mouths apart, "What are we doing… stop… Edward… what are we doing? We can't do this… we can't…"

"Fucking… we're only… only… fucker…" I whisper as I start to suck the side of her neck. "Fucking. Just the two of us… no scene… no orders… just us…"

"We shouldn't be doing this…" she whispers as she grabs my cock and lines it up with her pussy. "Katy is going to beat me for this… she specifically told me… even when we aren't on duty… she warned me not to do this… we're breaking the rules… we really shouldn't do this, you do know that… don't you? But seeing as we are… come on… let's fucking get on with it… fuck me… Edward… please… I need you…"

Without waiting to be told twice, I grab her hips and yank her legs further apart. I thrust upwards and push myself inside of her in one quick, sharp movement and she hisses as I stretch her without making sure she's ready for me.

"Fucking hell… Cullen!" she gasps, digging her nails into my shoulders. "Fucking huge… oh fuck… harder… shit… faster… come on! FUCK ME HARDER! COME ON!" She wraps her legs around my waist and lifts her pelvis upward to encourage my movements.

"Oh God…" I whimper as her hot, wet body sucks at me, tightening around me the second I'm buried balls deep inside her and she squeezes me so hard that I can't move and hold myself upright on my hands.

"Holy fuck…" she groans. "So good… fuck me harder… move, Edward, PLEASE! FUCK ME!"

"Shit… you're tight…" I mumble and as she opens her eyes and stares at me, without giving her any time to get used to me, I do as she demands and thrust hard and fast. It feels like I'm trying to chase the demons that haunt me out of my mind by fucking her senseless as I turn my sadness into a base, urgent, animalistic motion.

Grabbing handfuls of the rug, after I place my legs on either side of hers, I arch my back, and ram myself even harder into her wet, welcoming body. All I can think about is satisfying myself. For once I don't even care if the person I'm fucking is enjoying themselves or not—I just need to lose myself and shut my mind off to the emotions that Carlisle's words had ripped out of me. I sit backwards and yank her with me, pulling her onto my lap and without missing I beat, I pound into her as I suck and bite her breasts much harder than I usually would, marking her. Grabbing her nipples, I twist them, despite the metal bars, and she hisses out expletive after expletive as I fuck the memories of rejection and sadness into oblivion.

She doesn't seem to have any problem with me being selfish, in fact, the harder I thrust and grab, the louder her noises become and the more frantic she jerks above me.

"That's amazing… that's sooo fucking good… Eddie…" she groans as I dig my fingers tightly into her backside so hard that I know I'm going to bruise her. "Soooo… fucking… shit… you are… one… fucking… HARDER! HURT ME! FUCK ME!" she gasps as I increase my thrusts. "MORE!"

She wasn't kidding when she said she liked pain…

Raising herself up higher on her knees, she presses her nipple against my face and taking the hint I nip and lick every bit of flesh I can reach. I tug her bar as I suckle her nipple in and out of my mouth.

"Bite it… bite it… bite it…" she demands and as I sink my teeth down on her engorged flesh before I pull outwards, stretching her nub in a manner that must really hurt her. In response, she bounces up and down excitedly on top of me. "More, Edward, MORE!"

"Demanding… fucking… harpy…" I pant out as I suck just above her left nipple hard making her screech. Gripping her more tightly, I start to thrust up even faster as she lowers one hand and frantically rubs her clit. Looking down to where we're joined, I groan because the way her fingers are flying from side to side as my cock enters and leaves her body looks so fucking hot that I'm about to embarrass myself by cumming too quickly. Closing my eyes, I grab a handful of her hair, drag her head backwards and sink my teeth into the side of her neck, sucking and biting with a brutal urge I've never felt before.

Holding her hips again, I lift her up and down faster than ever as I fuck her frantically. "FUCK!" she squeals, "SO FUCKING GOOD! MORE! MORE! MORE!" she chants in time with my thrusts. "FUCKING HELL!"

Minutes later she shudders and tries to lift herself up as she pulls her pussy away from my cock and screeches. I try and hold her in place but she fights me off and manages to separate our bodies. She floods us both as she squirts copious amounts of clear fluid, I groan loudly as it streams all over my legs. Lost in her orgasm, she yanks at my hair to the point that I can't stand the pain anymore and I grab her, forcing her back on top of my erection. Thrusting harder than ever, sweat trickles down the sides of my face and my back as I increase my pace and fuck her faster. Screaming the place down, she tightens around me repeatedly with one more agonising tug of my hair as she cums again. Reaching up, I grab hold of her bar bells and twist, making her arch her back as she writhes on top of me.

That's all it takes.

The rhythmic muscular contractions from inside her set off my own orgasm and grunting, I haul her closer and bite down onto her shoulder as I fuck her frantically, milking the final remains of my own release into her sweat covered body.

Collapsing on top of her, we both lay panting and gasping on the rug and I can feel our joint fluids trickling out. I push all the way inside her again, relishing the warm, wet feeling and I smile as I bend down and kiss her lightly on the lips.

Fuck…

This is only the second time that I've had sex without a condom… and Christ… it felt amazing.

"Next time… you want a… shoulder… to cry on, Cullen…" she gasps out, jabbing me painfully in the ribs before she kisses me back, "have a fucking… fucking wank… and if I'm bleeding from where you bit… bit me… you prick… I'm going to knock… knock your perfect front… teeth out and Carlisle will… fuck… Carlisle and Katy will… slam you into the wall… if… if you've marked… their property!"

Laughing at her feeble attempt to be angry with me, I roll off her and exhale, feeling deeply relaxed as I flop over onto the soft, cool rug.

"Well, they're going to punish me then, aren't they?" I chuckle as I swipe the back of my hand over my sweat soaked forehead. "We're both fucked, huh? I don't mind taking the blame, just say I forced myself on you! Do you think they'd buy that?"

"Don't be ridiculous! They'd know that was shit because your nose isn't splattered across your face and you don't have two black eyes!" she laughs loudly. "And they must have heard me cumming… I'm not exactly quiet, and neither are you! They know I would flatten you if you tried to get me to do something I didn't want to!"

"Tough talk there, girlie!" I say, laughing with her.

"Does that thing ever run out of juice?" she asks, pointing to my glistening cock and wrinkling her nose.

"No, and he doesn't stay soft for very long either, so be warned! If you tighten those muscles again, Anna, I might be forced to pin you down and fuck you again!" I laugh.

Grasping my hand, she rolls on top of me and sits astride me, my cock softening pressed between us as she does so.

"Feel better now?" she asks, surprisingly gently. "Do you?"

I look down and smile as the pearly coloured liquid trickles out of her and onto my belly.

"Yes. Yes, I do actually," I say, stroking down her damp thighs. "Was that okay? Sorry I was a bit rough with you. But I'm guessing we're both in the shit if we aren't allowed to do that outside of a scene unless we're ordered to do, so what will they really do to punish us?"

"No, we aren't allowed to do stuff together that isn't in our contract and recreational fucking under their roof certainly isn't in the small print, you know! But after what happened downstairs today, Christ knows how they'll react to this," she huffs as she climbs off me and walks towards the bathroom. "Nothing about the last hour is what was meant to happen today, Eddie. I guess we're still on duty as it were, so we shouldn't have done that without them telling us we can but I also think they've made us share a room as a test of our submission. We've failed at the first hurdle! Hey ho!"

"Thank you, Annabelle…" I say, sincerely.

"Well that's the first time anyone has ever thanked me for a fuck! I get thanked for my submission, yes, never for a fuck! I guess you're very welcome!" she giggles.

Looking into her eyes, I move one hand to touch her clitoris and she licks her lips. "I'd like to see this when you put the bar in," I say, looking down at my moving fingers as they stroke up and down her tiny exposed organ. Immediately, her hips move forwards to press against me.

"_God… don't do that… it feels amazing… please… you have to stop…"_ she whispers. _"We mustn't fuck again… stop, Edward…"_

"Did it hurt? Having it pierced I mean?"

"Yep, it stung like a bitch. I went back the next week and had my nipples, belly button and tongue done all at the same time. Two weeks later I had my tattoo done," she says, pointing to the small bumble bee on her hip bone. "It was then I twigged that I liked pain! I came on the table when the guy pierced my nipples. He said it happens occasionally and was totally nonplussed when I did. The girl who did my second tat," she says, pointing to the small daisy chain of flowers around her left ankle, "Got so turned on as I writhed on the table, she asked me out and we fucked for a couple of months whilst I was looking into the lifestyle. She wanted to follow me but I wanted a new start. I lost interest in her after she met my parents. I thought they would be shocked, they weren't, they were just disappointed. Again." She says, sadly. "Then I wanted to have a horizontal piercing in my clit but changed my mind when Carlisle drew up our contract, it would limit me playing for a couple of weeks."

"Blimey…" I say, impressed. "Well, I won't be having a Prince Albert, I can promise you that!"

"Spoil sport!" she giggles, "Quite a lot of doms and subs have their cocks pierced. It feels amazing when you're being fucked; it really, really rubs the g-spot and takes your breath away. It's meant to be fantastic on a man's prostate too. Carlisle's best friend, Caius, has one, and they share their male subs so you'll feel that soon enough."

"Oh…" I say, finding the idea of another man fucking me whilst Carlisle watches strangely arousing. "When did you have the piercings done?" I ask, changing the subject before I roll over and fuck her again.

"Your cock is alarmingly close to my arse, Cullen," she says, wriggling up my body a little, spreading the wetness from us both all over my belly. "That monster is NEVER going up there! Sorry, but you'd split me in two!"

"If Carlisle and Katy order it, you have no choice," I say, smugly.

"I fucking do, I'll safe word first!" she laughs, slapping my chest.

"Brat…" I say, staring at her hardened nipples. "Your piercings…" I whisper, stroking under her breast, "When did you get them?"

"I was fifteen…" she says, shivering as I keep moving my fingers.

"Fifteen? All of them? When you were just fifteen? Isn't that against the law?" I ask, slightly shocked that anyone would pierce her in such intimate places when she was underage and pull my fingers away.

"Christ, being judgemental before you know the facts, Eddie boy? And you haven't even trained as a lawyer yet!" she laughs. "I stole my nannies ID and went to Camden Town on the train with my boyfriend. No one asked me any questions, though the guy did say I didn't look twenty five! Anyway, come on, you stink of sweat and you've got more cum on you than the entire contents of a sperm bank so just hurry up and get your arse in gear! You REALLY need a shower, boy! Don't keep them waiting because if we do, we are both for the high jump!"

"I thought we might have a repeat performance, but slower this time… I'd like to see how many times I can make you come before I do…" I say, hopefully as I slide my finger along her very swollen pussy lips. "I still feel a little bit emotional! Want to make it all better again?" I snigger.

"Fuck off!" She says firmly. "That poor thing is out of bounds for a few days, I feel like I've had a bloody totem pole up there and I'm sure that I've got splinters of wood to prove it!"

"You've got a mouth, haven't you?" I say, dodging the threat of her splayed palm as she tries to whack me and as I roll out of her way, she lands on the bare wooden floor with a resounding thud.

"My arse hurts as well now, you dick!" she yelps as I drag her to her feet and pull into the bathroom.

"Stop whining, princess, get you sore bum and pussy in the shower or I'll fuck you until you can't walk!" I laugh and this time, her hand makes contact with the top of my arm.

"Don't even fucking try it, pretty Ed!" she chuckles loudly.

Shit but she has strength in her hands that any man would be proud of and my bicep looks like someone has spray painted a bright red flower on to it.

Showering with her feels very different to the other times I've shared a shower or bath after sex. The water burns painfully as the sharp shards batter down on my paddled arse cheeks. The marks on my lower back hurt the most and as I turn around and my body presses against the icy tiles, I wince.

"Are you really sore?" she asks as she looks me up and down.

"A bit… but I'm okay… don't fuss… I'll be okay when I'm dressed…"

"Don't try and be big and clever, Eddie," she says, "Stop trying to be a big brave boy! Ugh! MEN! Why do you have to pretend you're okay when you're really not? You simply didn't get aftercare. That's why you hurt and I can help you with that, just stop being such a twerp. Impact play is remarkable but even I need looking after afterwards, and I LOVE extreme pain, you saw that! So shut up, and when we get out, I'll give you a rub down. Carlisle gives an _amazing _massage but of course you interrupted his plans with your hysterical little melt down…"

"I didn't have a bloody melt down!" I say indignantly. "I didn't, Anna!"

"Get a grip," she grins, before she shoves a sponge at me and squirts body wash on it, before she does the same with her own.

Staring at her barbells, I groan as my cock twitches and without thinking, I go to touch the bite mark on her breast and grumble as she pushes me away.

"Edward Cullen! Will you just pack it in! I'll tell you this once, and once only and then I'll knee you in the nuts to get my point across, do you understand me? That was a one off, condomless, off duty fuck and it was a sympathy fuck, okay? You needed comforting every bit as much as I did and that's all! I wanted to fuck you the same as you wanted me. I like you, and like fucking you, but I don't fancy you. You're a fucking good lay, but so am I and from now on, it's during scene times only. Katy told me to do whatever it took to make you feel better and that I needed to talk to you to see if they'd done something wrong. I wanted to have sex with you again so don't think she told me to do that, because she didn't. But don't get any funny ideas about what we are to one another, okay? We will fuck plenty of times when we're doing a scene, just don't think we're anything but playmates and hopefully, friends. It's brilliant that you know how to fuck properly, but it will only be when we're told to do so by Katy and Carlisle. Yes?"

"Yes, that's fine by me. I'm just a horny bastard, but as long as I get to fuck and be fucked regularly, I'm more than okay with that," I say, shrugging, not bothered by her words. She's right, of course, and I don't want a relationship with her or anyone else, it's just that I'm used to fucking all over again in the shower after previously fucking.

"I meant what I said, Edward, I really do like you. I think we could be good friends, don't you? You're as much of a mouthy brat as I am, and I think we might give those two headaches, but I think they might quite like that too!"

"Yes, I think we're going to be good together, Anna. One thing though, are you serious that we can't fuck again tonight and that I won't ever get to fuck your arse?" I ask, raising my eyebrow.

"Are you nuts? You aren't getting anywhere near me again tonight, tomorrow night or Sunday! I'm on fire down there! I'm going to take some pain killers and need to shove some cream up there to make it feel better! So just fuck right off!"

Laughing, I pat her bum, and she squeals, wiggling as I laugh, "Meanie! You're one hot fuck, Anna Withenshaw!"

"Thanks, but you're still not fucking me again tonight! My poor pussy feels like sodding chopped liver, Cullen. You weren't exactly gentle with me, were you? Huh. Look at my back," she grumbles as she turns around, "Have I got carpet burns? My skin is on fire!"

She has.

"Sorry… well… no, I'm not really!" I snort, "You did tell me to do it harder, didn't you? I thought you were going to scalp me until I fucked you harder like you were ordering me to do, so, girlie, if you don't like the consequences, don't play with the big boys, baby!" I say, slapping her bare, wet bottom hard.

"Yeah. Very funny, you sarcastic bastard… and that felt good by the way but don't mark me anymore… we're in enough fucking trouble, dick. Have you seen what you've done to my left tit?" she mutters as she washes herself, "Knowing my fucking luck, Carlisle will pound me all night as well and I would never refuse him. He is my master and it's his right to do so. Mind you, he's got you around, pretty boy, so I would think I'll be left alone tonight! And if this mark on my shoulder doesn't go down a bit by tomorrow, you're in big shit, boy!" she laughs, slapping me with her sponge.

After drying myself, I clean my teeth and run my fingers through my damp hair. I'm flushed and my cheeks are scraped from kissing Carlisle and his stubble. My neck and collar bones are sucked and chewed and my own five o'clock shadow is now very evident. Oh well.

"You're far too pretty to be a boy, Edward," Annabelle says. "No wonder you're such a hit with both men and women!"

"Shut up, Anna," I say, dismissively, "And if you call me pretty again, I'll walk out the door and you'll be to blame. What are we meant to wear to go downstairs?"

"Your sleep suit," she says as she brushes her still damp, long hair. Now that it's wet, it hits the middle of each arse cheek and looks almost black due to the water.

"Oh for fuck sake…" I moan, "Can't I just wear my jeans?"

"Not if you want to continue this weekend, you can't. When we're off duty, we're still under their control and as such, we do as we're told, when we're told and how we're told. Learn that and your arse won't look like a piece of tartan every weekend! I learned VERY quickly that Katy's hand was as fast as her temper if I misbehaved and never, EVER be rude to Carlisle again. Katy is so protective of him. Now hurry up, and pull on your nice fleecy weecy!" she sniggers, slapping my naked backside.

"Bollocks."

"Yes, you have two, large, surprisingly hair free ones, Edward, and they're hanging nice and low again," she says, sniggering as she quickly plaits her hair and twists it up onto her head. "Now use them to give yourself a bit of backbone and put the fucking outfit on! Those non-slip feet took me two whole weekends to stitch together and I hate sewing. I stabbed myself so many times when I was making them that I had plasters all over the place and wasn't allowed to touch Carlisle's cock! I got paddled like hell for that! WEAR IT!" Sighing, I pull on my onesie and groan as Annabelle pisses herself laughing as she grabs the zip up. "Hold your cock down, we don't want to catch it in the metal teeth, do we? Christ, Edward," she says, trailing her fingers over my erection and catching the bead of precum that's oozing out of the slit. "Does that thing EVER go to sleep?" she finishes as she licks her finger clean.

"Not when it's near something that looks as irresistible as you do, dressed as a small duckling it doesn't! Are you going to quack for me too, baby?"

"Fuck you, Cullen! Well I never saw Tigger with a hard on before." She says as I she zips me right up to the throat. "Forget about having a tent in your knickers, Eddie boy, you look like you've got a bloody marquee in there!" she says, grinning as she slaps my cock really hard.

"OW! DON'T HIT IT! THAT FUCKING HURT!" I yelp out just as the door opens.

Shit.

Turning around, we come face to face with a scowling dominatrix. Looking up at the clock, I sigh because we're late.

"Is everything alright in here?" Katy asks. "It's well over an hour since you left the dungeon, you're very late. Are you still leaving, Edward?"

Just as Annabelle had said, she's wearing her Eyore suit. She looks surprisingly sweet and has her long dark hair pulled up into a high ponytail, making her look far younger.

"Yes," Anna says, "Sorry we're late, we got a little side tracked. All's fine now, well I think it is, isn't it, Edward?" she asks, looking at me with a cocked eyebrow. Looking at her slightly worried eyes, I nod, because everything is much better now. It won't be 'fine' but it's better than it was. I will always hate my father and will always feel unloved, unwanted and uncared for but I now know that having two parents around is no guarantee to be spared any of those things. "Eddie boy has daddy issues just like you and me, Mistress. He's fine now and is ready to talk to you both, aren't you Edward?" she continues, frowning at me.

"Well, I'm ready to talk a bit, but I'm still not calling Carlisle '_Daddy'_ and no one is going to force me to," I finish, defiantly raising my chin as I do so.

"I think we need to get out the limits lists and have a little chat about one of two things, Edward," Katy says, gravely, "The entire point in the lifestyle is that we are open and honest in all things. It can be dangerous if this isn't adhered to, to the letter and as such, you haven't told us everything. Specific names should have been on your hard limits lists and they weren't. That was very remiss of you, don't you think? We played hard today and what if there was something else that you didn't want to do but hadn't been honest about? Think about it! If you were gagged and bound and Carlisle fucked you and you hadn't been truthful about your past experiences? That would have been horrific for you and traumatic for my husband! That isn't what this is about. This is all about the exchange of power and a submissive achieving fulfilment at the hands of an experienced dominant or dominatrix. We get our satisfaction from satisfying YOU, don't you understand that?"

None of this had crossed my mind.

"I didn't realise it would cause such a problem, Katy," I say. "I hated my father. I didn't call him daddy, ever. He wasn't even _'Dad'_ to me! He was _'father'_ at best. I see sex as pleasure and learning, anything relating to that fucker is just too much for me…" I ramble, telling her far more than I meant to.

"Oh, love," she says, walking towards me and wrapping her arms around me, "We all have parental problems of one kind or another here, dear. Now, come downstairs and explain this to my husband. He's climbing the walls thinking he hurt you in some way. I've never seen him so distressed, we need to make things okay again and frankly, love, only you can do that. Come on, I've made some supper, we all need to eat, drink and calm everything down."

….

Heading down from the top of the house, my nerves crank up a little bit with every step I take as I get closer to Carlisle, knowing that he wants an explanation. Do I want this to continue? Do I? This man wants to fuck me and for me to call him Daddy. How the hell to I reconcile that?

As we reach the ground floor, a door opens and Carlisle steps out and walks towards me. "Come in here, please, Edward," he says, quietly. "Katy, Annabelle, give us ten minutes on our own please. I will call you both in when we're done in here. Okay?"

Shit.

Carlisle opens the door. He's wearing his Winnie the Pooh outfit and usually I would snigger at the sight of a grown man dressed in such a ridiculous outfit but the look on his face stops me dead in my tracks.

He's almost grey and his usually immaculate hair is all over the place and his eyes look slightly wild.

"Please come in, Edward," he says, quietly and as I cross the threshold, he closes the door behind Katy, who has ignored his instructions, and I with a resonating click.

"I'll leave you two alone in a minute, love," she says, quietly as she pats her husband on the arm. "I just need to make sure you're okay to handle this?"

"I'm fine now, dear," he says, barely audibly.

Looking around, I see what Carlisle had meant earlier about their differing tastes and decorating styles. This room has to be Katy's domain. The walls are covered in a heavily patterned William Morris Pomegranate wallpaper. I recognise it from the bed covers, curtains and blinds in Rosalie's parent's bedroom. I always liked it. The walls are covered with paintings, drawings and prints of birds of every kind imaginable and every work surface is covered in more ornaments than I've ever seen in my life. They are mainly of birds, but of all kinds. Owls, eagles, kestrels, water fowl, hens, blue tits, you name it, they are here.

On the large ornate metal fireplace are copious amounts of photographs. The largest one in the middle is of Katy and Carlisle, arms wrapped around one another. It would be a lovely, almost romantic picture if it weren't for the fact that Katy is dressed in a transparent PVC cat suit and Carlisle is dressed as a sort of Dracula figure, but with webbed feet and a ducks bill above his fangs.

"I know my crotch looks a little misty there," Katy says brightly, "but it was damned hot in that bloody club and I couldn't use a panty liner when my outfit was see-through. Doesn't my lovely husband look divine dressed like that?" she asks.

"Um… yes…" I say, uncertainly. "What is he dressed as?"

"Oh, I guess you're too young to remember those cartoons, love, aren't you?" she asks, chuckling. "Well that was my fortieth birthday party and Carlisle threw me a party at the Twilight club in Stepney. It was a really lavish, fancy dress affair and he dressed up as Count Duckula! Complete with a bottle of tomato ketchup and several carrots tucked in his pockets. Wasn't that sweet of him?"

"Er… yes?" I say again. "Um… why?"

"Well," she says, excitedly, "Apart from Carlisle, swans, BDSM and cooking, my two favourite things are ducks and vampires! Duckula was a vegetarian vampire!" she giggles.

Right…

Minimalist it certainly isn't but somehow I like it more than the rest of the house, apart from the dungeon, obviously.

The wooden floor is covered with huge floral, scatter rugs and there's a large, black grand piano in the far corner. There are dozens of silver framed photographs all over the top of it and my fingers itch to play it.

It feels homely and comfortable, if not cluttered and totally eccentric—just like Katy.

There are two large, squishy; three seat sofas and three matching armchairs, along with various footstools. Heavy curtains cover the two ceiling to floor length windows and a fire burns brightly in the grate, despite the fact that it's the middle of summer. All in all, it's a lovely room.

"Take a seat please, Edward," he says as he waves towards one of the couches. "Sit next to me." He says, firmly, giving no room for argument as he points to the sofa by the window.

"I'll leave you boys on your own now, okay?" Katy says. "I just want you to sort this out. Edward, my husband is very distressed. Please be open and honest with us at all times, or this really won't work."

"Okay, dear, thank you. We won't be long. If you need any help with supper, let me know." Carlisle says, "Sit please, boy."

Nodding, I do as he asks, it would be petulant to do otherwise and Anna was right, I do owe them both an explanation for my outburst earlier and Carlisle seems to be a kind man who will listen to me.

"This room, as I'm sure you've ascertained, is decorated as per Katy's instructions and houses some of her most valuable ornaments. Her A A Milne collection is stored in her office," he says, smiling tightly. "My wife has a Winnie the Pooh obsession, and after we've sorted this out, I'm sure she'll show you her things."

"It's lovely," I say, honestly. "It feels safe…"

"Yes, it does. It's far more homely than the rest of the house. Her bedroom is similarly attired. Sometimes it all gets a little much for me and we sleep in my room." He says, smiling.

"You have separate rooms?" I ask.

"Yes. We always have. It makes for a far more interesting marriage to be honest with you, Edward. All that trotting backwards and forwards to one another when one of us is in the mood, keeps the spice and excitement alive. And Katy likes to keep her swan napkins up there before she takes them to the café so she prefers to stay in there on her own. We find it adds a frisson of excitement to our nocturnal activities."

I would have thought that the fact they fuck other people, it would be kept fresh, but I'm not married, so what do I know?

"Now, Edward, we need to discuss what happened in the dungeon. But firstly, I need to assure you that I would never do anything to you that you hadn't agreed to. You are aware of that, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sir," I say. "Physically, anyway…" I mutter.

"No, Edward, that isn't right. I wouldn't deliberately do anything to you, physically or mentally that you hadn't agreed to. This has to be nothing more than a misunderstanding. So, please," he says, turning his legs so that our knees touch lightly, "Talk to me."

Taking a deep breath, I repeat the entire unpleasant story that I'd previously told Annabelle. Not once does Carlisle interrupt me as my words spill out, tumbling with such speed from my thickened feeling tongue, that they don't even make sense to me. He simply sits and listens impassively as my voice rises. He occasionally pats me on the hand or fleece covered knee when I sniff loudly. Oddly, it's more emotional explaining the neglect that I'd suffered to a man who is a similar age to my father when he died. Before I realise what's happening, fat, salty tears are streaming down my cheeks and without thinking, I instinctively reach out to Carlisle and he responds, wrapping his arms around me, rocking me gently in his arms.

"Sshhhh, baby… sssshhh…" he soothes as he strokes my hair. It feels wonderful and I feel safer with him than I ever have before, even with Riley.

"I can't call you '_Daddy,_' Carlisle," I say, breaking role. "I understand that you need it… well… no… I don't actually understand that, but I GET that you want me to call you that name. But I can't. I just can't… and I won't. I couldn't call the fucker whose sperm made me that and I hated him. I like you… in fact; I like you very much… I like you a lot…" I say, inappropriately.

"Do you?" he asks, "Do you really like me, Edward? Do you want to stay with me?"

"Yes… I do… I want you to train me… I want to learn everything you are willing to teach me… I want you…" I say as I turn my face to his. Reaching forwards, I touch his cheek and as he closes his eyes, I press my lips to his.

I already know that he has feelings for me, without sounding conceited, they always do and although I don't feel that for him, I do like him and because he's the best there is training wise, I do want to stay with him. I want to learn. No… I need to learn. I'm also well aware that I'm a conceited little fucker and that I can get pretty much anyone to do anything I want them to. I will be a good lawyer.

"I want to stay with you both…" I murmur. "And Anna… I like her… I like Katy and I really like you…"

"God you're so fucking beautiful…" he groans. Instantly, his hands grasp the back of my head and he opens his lips and pushes his tongue inside my mouth. Without saying a word, he straddles my legs, sitting on me with one knee either side of me on the thick, feather filled seats. I wasn't expecting this but it feels right and I kiss him back enthusiastically as he trails one hand down to grip my erection. Our kissing becomes frantic, and shoving his hand out of the way, I return the favour and wrap my fingers around his cock and start to pump it up and down.

"Stop… Edward… oh fuck… you have… have to stop…" Carlisle says, breathlessly, pulling away from me. "Don't, baby… we need to sort this out… the four of us… together… if you want to stay with us… we really need to sort this out first and fuck later… I promise… promise you that… if that's what… you… want…"

Do I want that?

Do I?

Carlisle is one hot fuck so, me being me, someone who is totally and utterly led by their cock and balls, I nod brightly. "Yes… I do want that… but perhaps we shouldn't do any more scenes this weekend?" I say, hopefully.

"What do you mean?" he asks, frowning. "You want us to fuck away from the dungeon?"

"Would Katy allow that?" I ask, not knowing the answer.

"Yes." He says, shrugging, "She would. I told you, I like my submissives to be tied to the foot of my bed so that I can fuck them in the night. What have you got in mind?" he smirks, cocking an eyebrow at me. "More anal sex? Aren't you sore?"

"Yes more anal sex and no, I'm really not sore. But this time I want to fuck you…" I say, without thinking.

"You want me to bottom for you?" he asks with a slightly raised voice as bright colour flushes his cheeks.

"Yes."

"Are you sure you're a submissive, Edward?" he asks, licking his bottom lip. "I've never had a submissive ask to fuck me before… they always want to suck my cock or have me cum on them and of course fuck their arses, but never have any of them asked to fuck MY arse! I think you have dominant tendencies, don't you agree?"

"No. No I don't think so… I've always looked after myself… I've always taken control of things… I like being told what to do and how to behave… Sir. So no, I don't think I'm a dominant…" I say, as my mind starts to cogitate his words.

"Well then, my newest submissive, when we've had our chat with Katy and Annabelle, and if my lovely, understanding wife agrees, then yes, you can fuck me… but be warned, I haven't bottomed for years, so you'll need to be gentle with me, especially with the thing you keep in there!"

I was only half joking when I'd said I wanted to do that… I never thought in a million years he would let me do that to him! Surely that would sway the balance of power between us entirely? Wouldn't it? He's supposed to control me and I'm supposed to be controlled. I don't understand this.

"I'm confused…" I say, frowning as I look up at him. "I thought you held all the power?"

"No… you do… submissives hold all the power. The dominant and dominatrix are only allowed to use and control a submissive with their permission. Enough for now… come here…" he whispers as he stands up, pulling me with him.

"What?"

"Sssh… just watch me…" he says as he slowly and deliberately strokes his fingers over the covered head of my cock.

"Sssshhhhiiittt…" I whimper out as he drops to his knees in front of me and grasps the tab of the fastening. Staring into my eyes, he slowly pulls the zip downwards, smiling as he does so. "Oh my God… Carlisle…"

"I want to taste you… I wanted to be alone with you all day… just the two of us…" he mutters as he shuffles closer. "No scene… no planning… no stopping to make sure everyone was happy… just you and me… making love… Christ you're beautiful, Edward…" he continues as he dips his head and trails his nose up the side of my erection.

"Jesus, Car…" I begin, but the words die in my throat as he takes a long, slow lick over the leaking head of my cock and I shudder before I grab handfuls of his blond hair.

"Sssshh… just let me…" he says barely audibly.

As he opens his mouth and gently sucks the head between his warm lips, my legs threaten to buckle. I need more so I wrestle my arms out of my stupid outfit and shove it down, leaving it pooled around my ankles. Taking the hint, Carlisle slides more and more of my erection into his mouth and laves my swollen shaft with his flattened tongue. It's almost too much to bear and yanking him closer, I begin to jerk my hips in time with his movements.

"Fuck…" I whimper as his hand moves up to cup my balls before he slides his fingers upwards and firmly massages my perineum. I have a feeling that Carlisle's oral skills might just give Riley's a run for their money. An agonised screech echoes around the room and I open my eyes, surprised when I realise that it's coming from my own lips. I can usually delay my orgasm, even more so if I've already cum as I just have, but not today. Not when this oral expert is fucking me with his mouth. "Stop…" I grumble. "Stop, Carlisle… please…"

Pulling away, he sits back on his knees and frowns, "What's the matter? Don't you like that?"

"Of course I fucking do!" I gasp out, "But I'm going to cum much too fast if you keep doing that! Take your clothes off and lie down! I want to do it too! Do it, Carlisle! Now before I shoot my load!" I demand.

"Bossy little fucker, aren't you?" he chuckles as he does as I ask.

The honeyed late afternoon sunlight that streams through the muslin covered windows makes him look almost ethereal with a golden hue all over his sweat dampened skin. Even his eyes look amber and as he kicks off his suit, I tug mine off over my feet and watch him as he lies back on one of the thick rugs and holds his arms out to me.

"I see Annabelle has given you a slap!" he laughs as he points to the mark on my upper arm. "What did you do? You didn't comment on her small breasts did you? If you did, I'm surprised she didn't knee you in the balls!" he chuckles.

"No, it was nothing like that. We were just messing around…" I say, staring at him. "And her hands are small but really strong! It hurt more than the flogging!"

"She is quite a remarkable girl, isn't she?" Carlisle asks, reaching out to me again. "But enough about her for now, boy. This is about us and no one else. What are you going to do? Do you want me to fuck you? I haven't got any lube in here, Edward… you can't come near me with that thing without lube! No way! You could get some butter from the kitchen if you want to? That would do, I think?"

"No." I say, determinedly shaking my head. "No that wouldn't do…"

"What are we doing then? Come here and kiss me… then lean over the arm of the couch and let me fuck you… I'll get the butter… or olive oil from the kitchen…" he says as his hand drops to his cock and begins to move slowly up and down his erection.

"No, I don't want you to fuck me like that. Not yet, anyway. I want to try something else altogether…" I finish as I turn around and straddle his face and drop forwards.

"Holy fuck…" he mutters as I swallow the head of his cock without giving him any warning. Taking my cue, he starts to suckle first one of my balls and then the other.

Whining as he increases the pressure of his suction, I open my throat, and take the whole of his cock all the way down and he lets out an agonised muttering as I begin to move my mouth up and down.

Pulling me further onto his mouth, he slowly licks around my arse and I swallow in response as my entire body shudders. The way my throat muscles work on his erection makes him cry out loudly again.

God only knows what Katy and Annabelle must think we're doing but right now, I don't really give a shit.

As he takes my cock into his mouth again, he slowly pushes his finger inside of me and begins to press my prostate firmly and rhythmically. It feels amazing, and in response, I push my crotch further into his face, thrusting backwards and forwards in time with his movements.

Sixty nining with both Douglas and Riley had always been most enjoyable and was something that we all indulged in—even as a threesome—on many occasions, but this—this—this is totally different. Carlisle's mouth and hands seem to touch me in ways that no one else's ever have done and I have to use every bit of strength I have to resist the urge to yank him away from me, bend him over and fuck him hard and fast.

The groans, moans and whimpers that we are both emitting reverberate around the room. The frantic, sweaty writhing increases and as I tug his balls downwards, he cums surprisingly quickly, flooding my throat. As I swallow it down, he adds a second finger, unlubed obviously and I hiss out at the stretch.

"Are… are you… okay?" he asks, breathlessly.

"Yes… it's just… oh God… it… burns…" I groan, raising my backside up and down, urging him on. "More… Sir… more…"

"Fuck…" he groans as he curls them to a more exaggerated angle and I jerk as he takes me back into his mouth, cumming hard as he milks my gland. Bellowing, I throw my head back and allow his softening cock to slip out of my mouth.

We lay, panting with me draped over him for what feels like ages. We're both hot and sweaty and as I nuzzle his crotch, he does the same to mine and oddly, it feels comfortable and 'right.' In fact, I think I even drifted off to sleep for a couple of minutes.

"Edward?" he says. "Edward? Answer me… love… answer me… Edward, tell me… are you okay?"

"Mmmm… I'm great… really great… I'm just knackered…" I groan as I clamber off him and sit in a crumpled, rumpled heap on the rug. "I've cum quite a lot today… and that was… fucking… amazing… it stung… but fuck… it was really good…"

"I know you have… God you're good, Edward. Really good… I'm so glad you decided to do this test with us and I'm even happier that you decided to stay." Leaning forwards, he kisses my lips gently. "You're so special… I love this… love it…" he whispers against the side of my face.

Special?

I'd rather he thought of me as a hot fuck but I'll take special too it that's how he feels. A feeling of something akin to nerves shivers along my spine when I think that he might feel more for me than I do, but I hope I'm wrong.

"Come on, pretty boy, let's talk to the others," he says, staring at me intently before standing up and grabbing my hand, pulling me behind him.

"Pretty boy?" I say, grinning and surprisingly, I don't mind him calling me that. "I thought I was going to be 'baby boy' from now on?"

"Well, you are a pretty boy," he says, wrapping his arms around me again and rubbing his nose against mine. "So… very… (kiss)… very (kiss)… pretty…" he continues as my already hard cock rubs against his hardening one.

"I think we need to stop…" I say as I pull my face back a little bit, "Or I might just fuck you now… lube or no fucking lube…" I finish as I press our mouths together and rub our bodies firmly together as I plunge my tongue into his mouth and kiss him passionately.

"Fuck… Edward…" he gasps, pulling back, "Please… baby… we need to stop now or we'll never leave this room…"

Reluctantly, we pull apart and grin at one another.

"You should have a health warning on you, Edward," he says, shaking his head. "You really should. You are like some sort of addictive drug and every time I touch you, I want more…"

We both get dressed, chatting and laughing about the fact that what we just did wasn't really in the remit of re-evaluating our lists.

"Was that okay, Edward?" he asks, frowning. "Were you okay with what we just did? We should have been talking… I guess… sorry… I got carried away… shit" he huffs, dragging his fingers through his flattened hair.

"It was great, Carlisle!" I say, grinning, "You give a brilliant blow job! What's not to be okay about that?"

"Well, we were meant to be finishing our discussions," he says, scowling and looking petulant. "Not fucking again… I can't resist you… I really can't…"

"Did you enjoy it?" I ask.

"Of course I did! Shit, I came quicker than I have for years! I've just cum! I shouldn't have cum again that quickly! But I'm meant to be your dominant! I shouldn't have done that…"

"Do stop it!" I say, laughing, "It was fucking great, we did chat about my concerns and issues, then we fucked. Best way to iron out confusion in my mind! AND if you hadn't been so strong just now, we would have fucked again! You know we would have!"

"You're a bad boy, Edward Cullen… but I can't resist you…" he mutters as he kisses my nose. "Now let's get out of here before I demand an action replay and my wife and other submissive come to find out what the hell has happened to us! In all honesty," he says as he grips my hand firmly, "I've never been quite so attracted to a submissive before. Do you know that? Do you have this effect on everyone you fuck?"

"I don't know about that, Carlisle," I say, modestly, "I like to fuck and will try anything so I guess that makes me a little bit unusual. I don't class myself as gay, straight or bisexual. I'm just me. I like to fuck and be fucked," I finish shrugging.

"I think you're an enigma. I'm bisexual but Christ, if I'd met you before I was married, I might not have thought of myself that way…" he says, blushing.

"We need to get back to the other two…" I say, suddenly feeling quite uncomfortable at his declaration. "We've kept them waiting long enough, don't you think?"

"Yes. Yes of course!" he says, dragging me along behind him.

We leave the cluttered warmth of the drawing room and instead enter another stark white room. The dining room. The table is glass and the chairs are Philippe Starck Ghost chairs. They are quite odd looking things that are made out of moulded transparent plastic that cast barely a shadow on the polished china tiled floor. Once more, it looks like a doctor's domain rather than a home and is most definitely of Carlisle's taste, rather than his wife's.

Plain white china and silver cutlery are laid out and a massive low level vase of white roses sit in the middle of the table. White candles are burning making the room look more of a creamy white as the sun starts to slip down towards the horizon. Soft music is playing in the background and Annabelle and Katy are bustling about, with flowery, tie waisted aprons on over their sleep suits, as they place dishes of food on the table.

It smells delicious and I'm suddenly aware that I'm both starving and parched. The large jugs of water look very inviting.

"Sit down, love," Katy says, pointing to a chair on the other side of the table from her.

Grinning, she looks from me to Carlisle and then her eyes drop to our crotches and the very obvious effect we've had on one another. "Glad to see that your little chat went well, darling." She says, chuckling as she leans over and kisses her husband on his cheek. "All sorted out, Edward? Are you going to stay with us? Or do you want to leave after supper? You certainly look much happier now," she grins, staring at my crotch again. "Are you feeling better?" she asks.

I try to put my hands over my erection and she laughs more loudly.

"Had a nice _talk_, did you, Eddie?" Annabelle asks, smiling as she raises an eyebrow and points to my crotch. "Carlisle is wonderfully erudite when he waxes lyrical, isn't he?"

Bitch.

"Yes, I think so… we need to go over my limits again, but I think Carlisle understands my reasons for not wanting to do as he asked, don't you?" I say, turning to look at him.

"Yes, I do." He replies, "You will call me '_Master'_ and _'Sir'_ just like Annabelle does, but," he continues, "Edward, I will still call you my baby boy…" he murmurs as he pulls me into his arms and caresses my backside as our cocks rub together once more, making me moan. "Is that alright?"

"Yes…" I say, forgetting where I am for a minute as I lean in and stroke my nose along his. "Yes… you can call me that…" I finish as I lean closer and lick his open lips lightly. This time he moans and grips me tightly. He kisses me deeply, pulling me flush against him and we both groan as the kiss intensifies and our hips gyrate against one another.

Just as I grasp the top of his zip, he moves his mouth to the side of my neck and licks along my carotid artery before he bites down firmly.

"Holy fuck…" I hiss out as I weave my fingers through his hair and tug him closer.

"Cough!" Katy says loudly as she laughs, "Let's leave that just now, shall we, dear?" she says, patting Carlisle on the shoulder. "Supper is getting cold and I think that at this rate, young Edward might just need his sustenance for later on, don't you? I have napkins to fold but I think Annabelle might be up for another round, aren't you, love?" she asks, grinning Annabelle's way and winks at her.

"Not likely!" she says, "I'm walking like I've got a horse wedged between my thighs," she giggles, "I'll help you with your napkins and leave these two to it! By the way their outfits are sticking out; they might not last until after dinner. If you suck his cock mid-course, please don't slurp, Eddie boy, I do so hate people talking with their mouths fool!"

"Quite right, Anna," Katy says, nodding, "Keep your manners at all times, Edward! I don't mind if you two want some alone time, dear," she continues, touching her husband's cheek lightly, "I know how much you like him already!"

"Thank you, darling," Carlisle says. "Thank you for that." He finishes, kissing his wife on the lips tenderly.

I don't know how she can be in love with him and share him so willingly.

"That's alright, love," she chuckles, "You two look like you've already had a bit of fun, carry on, but leave it until we've eaten though! Just don't disturb Anna and I, I have some big parties coming up and need to get ready for them. I don't want to play again this evening and am quite happy that Anna wants to help me tonight."

"Well, darling, that's a really good thing," Carlisle says, taking my hand and squeezing it, "I've agreed to try something very different for me with this pretty boy…"

"Oh, do tell!" Annabelle squeals.

"Annabelle, remember your place, dear," Katy says as she pours us all a glass of water. "I know this is all very exciting and different for you, but just remember that if we have any more outbursts today, you will pay for it. The strap is in on the hook in the kitchen and I will willingly take a break from folding the linens and beat you, love, so just reign in the enthusiasm a little bit please."

"Ooops," Annabelle says, "Sorry, Mistress!"

"Hmmm…" Katy says, looking at her naughty submissive over the top of her glasses.

"It's a jolly good thing that you two aren't going to join us because Edward wants to top me tonight!" Carlisle says, sounding breathless.

"Not really?" Anna asks, looking shocked. "You're going to top him?" she gasps. "Sorry, Mistress," she says, blushing, "But even you must agree, this is really different! Can I take pictures? Are we going to film it? I'll film it! You know I love doing that! Please, Master? I really want to!"

"No." I say firmly, "That is another hard limit for me. Carlisle and Katy both know that I won't be photographed or filmed, not with the career I have ahead of me." I finish, shaking my head and folding my arms.

"No, I know you made that a hard limit, Edward. Though it's a huge pity," Carlisle says, looking me up and down. "You have the most beautiful body and I bet you look amazing on film… oh well… maybe in the future you'll change your mind?" he asks, looking hopeful.

"I won't," I say, resolutely.

"Are you really going to do that, Edward?" Katy asks, looking as shocked as Anna had sounded.

"If he wants me to…" I say, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Better you than me, love," Katy grins as she flicks my erection with a napkin. "That thing isn't going near my bum! The large hand pump bottle of extra thick lube is in the toy box along with some new toys. I bought some new plugs, all different sizes. Have a look because I think you might need a little prepping before you even think about letting him fuck you, dear!"

Shit…

"I don't mind if we don't…" I mutter.

"You aren't backing out now, boy!" Carlisle says, "I'm actually quite looking forward to relinquishing my control for once, it gets a little tiring having to plan everything out. If we do okay, I might let you do it from time to time. In private only, of course, and you mustn't tell anyone outside our quartet because I don't want anyone to know about this but us."

"Everything between the four of us is totally and utterly private, Sir," I say, nodding firmly. "I would never, ever compromise either of you. I promise you."

"I know that, Edward," Katy says, kissing me on the cheek. "You're a good boy."

"I have my doubts about this boy's submission, Kate. He's strong willed, like Anna but there's something else… I don't know… there's a strength and defiance that makes me think of myself when I was younger… I think we may just have a switch on our hands love… you might need to take a bigger part in his impact training."

Switch?

Me?

I hadn't thought of myself like that but it makes sense in a way, I can be a mouthy, stubborn sod when I want to. I quite like the idea of training to dominate as well as submit…

"I was a submissive before I was a dominant, Edward, and I truly believe it makes me a much better dominant." He says.

"I didn't know that…" I mutter as the cogs of my brain start to whir.

"Come on!" Katy says, turning my attention back to her, "Anna and I've been slaving over a hot microwave! Let's eat!"

We all sit down and for the next hour, we chat about the day. We discuss what we all thought of the scene and our time together so far. Eating sausage casserole and mashed potatoes whilst discussing whether I liked having Carlisle's cock shoved down my throat might seem odd to most people but it didn't feel strange at all in their company.

They all agree that they want me to be a permanent part of their play time and that we need to rework our limits before we continue. Carlisle says that if I'm willing to agree, they will draw up an interim contract in the morning that we can re-evaluate in four weeks' time. We all murmur our approval to this idea and tuck into spotted dick and custard for pudding.

As Annabelle and I finish clearing everything away, Katy pats me on the bottom, "Sit down, please, dear. I need to ask you a few questions about this afternoon and about the noises that were coming from your _submissives_ room when I sent you both upstairs. Did you notice the intonation on the word '_SUBMISSIVE,' _dear?"

Ugh.

Not again.

I'd hoped that Annabelle had filled her in whilst Carlisle and I were… um… talking.

"What noises?" Carlisle asks as he pours coffee for them all, I decline. "Were you crying, Edward?"

"Oh no," Katy says, grinning at him as she flexes her long fingers, making them crack loudly in the now silent room. The colour has drained from Annabelle's face and a trickle of sweat runs down the back of my neck as I look at Carlisle. "I can guarantee, by the yells and screams madam was emitting that Edward wasn't crying. No, darling, I think he was otherwise engaged altogether…"

I look at Annabelle again and her eyes are huge. Grinning, I shake my head, feeling more like a naughty school boy than I've ever felt in my life before. Fuck me… we're in trouble now! I don't care to be honest, I'll take any punishment they mete out, and Annabelle's too because for the first time since I met the Whitlock's, I feel like I belong.

…..

**Well, there you have it! My naughty seems to have met his perfect foil in Annabelle. I think this chapter shows those of you who were up to spec with ISS when it was pulled quite why they are so close. They don't fall IN love with one another but they DO love each other and later down the line, Annabelle gets introduced to Jasper… I will say no more to those of you who don't know the other story.**

**More soon, I hope! Real life is absolute pandemonium right now so I will update this again as soon as I can. It won't be as often as ISS as so much of that is already written.**

**The next chapter will gallop ahead a bit, and will be Edward's time as a disgruntled and frankly crap submissive!**

**Hugs from London, mwah x**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello from my beautiful, grey, very wet London!**

**Just a quick heads up. I haven't even begun chapter 11 yep so I have no idea quite how long you are going to have to wait for that. But as this one is long enough for TWO chapters, I hope you will forgive my tardiness!**

**This is dedicated to IrishAsh for her unstinting support and care. She reads and reviews everything I write and has stood by me, as so many of you have, from the beginning. Hugs sweetie. **

**It is also dedicated to my lovely Arwen. She has been a poorly harpy but is getting better and we all missed her when she was in hospital. Squeezes and kisses from London, sweetheart. x**

**I'm so glad you all seemed to like the last chapter. It isn't always an easy read, or write. Our boy is a mix of emotions and he's struggling to come to terms with this different way of life. I think it's finally hitting him that this is a whole new world and although he can still get his own way most of the time, it isn't always guaranteed. I also think that for the first time in his life he has met his absolute match with Annabelle. Whereas Rosalie has teased and tempted him, and there has always been the promise of **_**more,**_** with Anna, there will be sex aplenty but only at the behest of their dominant and dominatrix and away from the dungeon or play party, they will simply be friends. **

**Or not. **

**Even this isn't guaranteed with the sparks that fly between them. **

**This chapter will be very different to the others but I really want you to understand him more and see who, and what, helps to mould him. I hope you like it.**

**I don't own Twilight, the fragrantly bouffant Stephanie Myers does. I do, however, own all new characters, the plot line and Vernon!**

**Laura Mars has helped me with this once again and Rima 2000 is back on board to help too so hopefully it will be more polished again, it's really hard going it alone, you re-read it so many times that you miss silly errors. Katy pre-read it for me as well, so thank you my lovely girls. Hugs from me to you. Jasper and Bernard (not my cats but who might as well be as they seem to be permanent fixtures now, thank goodness… I think I need them much more than they need me) sat beside me and nudged me, encouraging me to keep on writing. Or they might have just been patting my fingers as they played. Whatever the reason, they keep me going when the proverbial hits the fan.**

**My lovely, naughty, deviantly angelic, much damaged boy and I proudly give you:**

**SPINNING AROUND**

**CHAPTER 10**

**(Spinning around, spinning around)****  
****(Oh)****  
****I'm spinning around****  
****Move outta my way****  
****I know you're feeling me****  
****'cause you like it like this****  
****I'm breaking it down****  
****I'm not the same****  
****I know you're feeling me****  
****'cause you like it like this******

**Traded in some sorrow****  
****For some joy that I borrowed****  
****From****back in the day****  
****Threw away my old****clothes****  
****Got myself a better wardrobe****  
****I got something to say****  
****I'm through with the past****  
****Ain't no point in looking back****  
****The future will be****  
****And did I forget to mention****  
****That I found a new direction****  
****And it leads back to me, yeah******

**I'm spinning around****  
****Move outta my way****  
****I know you're feeling me****  
****'cause you like it like this****  
****I'm breaking it down****  
****I'm not the same****  
****I know you're feeling me****  
****'cause you like it like this******

**The mistakes I've made****  
****Have given me the strength****  
****To really believe****  
****That no matter how I take it****  
****There's no way I'm gonna fake it****  
****'cause it's gotta be real****  
****I've got nothing left to hide****  
****No reason left to fight****  
****'cause the truth's given me****  
****A new freedom inside****  
****Getting rid of my desire****  
****Do you like what you see******

**I'm spinning around****  
****Move outta my way****  
****I know you're feeling me****  
****'cause you like it like this****  
****I'm breaking it down****  
****I'm not the same****  
****I know you're feeling me****  
****'cause you like it like this****  
****Baby, baby, baby, ooh****  
****(Ooh) You know you like it like this****  
****Oh, baby, baby, baby****  
****You know you like it like this****  
****Oh, baby, baby, baby******

**I'm spinning around****  
****Move outta my way****  
****I know you're feeling me****  
****'cause you like it like this****  
****I'm breaking it down****  
****I'm not the same****  
****I know you're feeling me****  
****'cause you like it like this****  
****Feeling me 'cause you like it like this****  
****Oh, I'm not the same****  
****I know you like it like this, oh, ooh, yeah****  
****Like it like this****  
****Like it like this****  
****(I'm not the same)****  
****Like it like this****  
****I'm not the same (I'm not the same)**

**Sung by the miniature Kylie Minogue wearing her famous gold shorts!**

…**..**

**Previously**

**I'd hoped that Annabelle had filled her in whilst Carlisle and I were… um… talking.**

"**What noises?" Carlisle asks as he pours coffee for them all, I decline. "Were you crying, Edward?"**

"**Oh no," Katy says, grinning at him as she flexes her long fingers, making them crack loudly in the now silent room. The colour has drained from Annabelle's face and a trickle of sweat runs down the back of my neck as I look at Carlisle. "I can guarantee, by the yells and screams madam was emitting that Edward wasn't crying. No, darling, I think he was otherwise engaged altogether…"**

**I look at Annabelle again and her eyes are huge, and grinning, I shake my head, feeling more like a naughty school boy than I've ever felt in my life before. Fuck me… we're in trouble now! I don't care to be honest, I'll take any punishment they mete out, and Annabelle's too because for the first time since I met the Whitlock's, I feel like I belong.**

…

For the next six weeks as I prepared to leave London for the wilds of Cambridgeshire and my new life, I spent every weekend, and Wednesday night, with Katy, Carlisle and Annabelle. We were cocooned in our own little sexually deviant and hormone raddled bubble of perversion and I was the most sexually satisfied I'd ever been in my life. There was still a little nagging doubt that this might not be exactly what I wanted, but fucking Anna whilst Carlisle was buried in her mouth and Katy flogged my naked arse as her husband and I kissed passionately was as close to nirvana as I'd ever been.

Anna and I became closer with every passing day and in so many ways, it was like being with a female version of Jasper. Granted, she is much feistier than he is, and she is no shrinking violet. In fact, the wallop she meted out to me if I said the wrong thing could bring tears to my eyes in ways that a paddle had yet to do. But she was a friend to me. A true friend and I liked her very much indeed.

I also know that we test our Master and Mistress's patience to snapping point at times. They regularly grumble that we are very childish when we are off duty but they smile when they say that so I know they aren't really annoyed by it. I think they secretly like that we are becoming so close. This doesn't mean we get away with any minor, or major, misdemeanour. We'd both been bollocked out for having sex completely of our own volition and without even asking permission but we weren't physically punished on that occasion due to the fact that I'd been so upset and had used my safe word. I did squint and look up as Carlisle yelled at us and bit my lip when I saw that Katy found it very hard not to smirk as she joined in and told us off soundly. We were told that we were very naughty and that we mustn't do it again. I don't think we will ever go that far again to be honest. It really was little more than a _'comfort fuck'_ as Anna had said, and I was very grateful to her for feeling the same level of detachment, physically, that I also felt regarding sex. There was a very obvious mental connection between us from that first day, and I felt a level of trust and belonging with her that I'd only ever felt with Jasper before. Even Carlisle and Katy commented on it regularly. And although we spent the first night wrapped around one another in the bottom bunk—and every night that we weren't shackled to Carlisle's bed, since—we didn't do anything untoward without being instructed and ordered to do so again. As the days passed, we contacted one another more regularly until it was at least once a day via email or text, and although I felt a deep friendship and love for her, in much the same way as I felt for Jasper, I wasn't falling in love with her.

I became as submissive as I could be, and although they both seemed happy with my progress and the fact that I tried so hard to follow their instructions without question, I still struggled with being ordered around and was often gagged and whipped as punishment. I didn't really mind the punishment, in fact, I quite liked it, but being told what to do the entire time was the thing I fought against. The sex was amazing, the best I'd ever had, and Carlisle was unendingly patient with me but there was always a little voice in the back of my mind that I needed something else and that this was never going to be a permanent arrangement.

Our second weekend was very different to our first. We had finalised our lists on the first Saturday and our contracts were altered accordingly and signed.

Friday night was a flurry of sex of every description. Carlisle had started kissing and stripping me the second he'd closed the front door behind me and by the time I'd reached the basement, I was naked and on my knees, sucking his cock hungrily. He wouldn't let anyone else touch me, he said he needed me all to himself and was like something possessed. After being fucked to the point that I could hardly lift my head up, Carlisle and I slept on the floor in the dungeon together, exhausted, wrapped in nothing but our onesies as Katy and Anna left us to it. On the Saturday evening, after hardly doing anything but sitting in one position without moving or speaking for hours, we had our supper in absolute silence. We were made to serve them their food in the dining room and to kneel one either side of Katy before being dismissed to eat, still in silence after Annabelle and I were caught having a soap suds fight in the bathroom. We got so carried away that Anna had slid and banged her tail bone really hard and as the final punishment of the day, we were tied to the foot of his bed without any sex at all.

I discovered that I quite liked sleeping there. Although I'd been horrified when I first realised I would be required to do this, I had agreed to this addition in my limits list. They were willing to bend their wishes to adapt to my needs so it was only fair that I gave in to this one small thing for them. The thick feather mattresses, duvets and pillows they provided for us were every bit as comfortable as a bed and I slept deeply, despite my left hand being cuffed to the wooden bed leg. That is until Carlisle woke me up in the middle of the night demanding to fuck me. I smiled and clambered onto my one free hand and knees and didn't say a word as he licked, sucked and probed me as he prepared me for his cock as Annabelle slept contentedly beside me and Katy snored away in the bed above us.

He didn't untie me when he'd finished. He came quite quickly as I deliberately clenched my anal muscles repeatedly. He didn't allow me cum or to go to the bathroom. Instead, he cleaned me up and gave me a china chamber pot to piss in before I fell asleep again. I was grouchy that I hadn't been allowed to cum and my cock and balls ached but I managed to clear my mind and nod off quite quickly.

That is until odd noises woke me up. It came as a bit of a shock when I opened my eyes and heard grunts and groans echoing off the walls. I thought he was fucking Annabelle and was a bit annoyed about that because she was bruised after falling on the china tiles. Sitting up, I was surprised to see Katy and Carlisle making love slowly and noisily in the bed. I really wasn't expecting that and at first I felt oddly jealous not to be in the middle of it all. Riley and Jace rarely fucked in the same room as me without involving me in some way, even if it was only going down on Jacinta to get her fully ready to be penetrated. Scowling and lying down, I snuggled up to Anna for comfort and pulled the pillow and quilt over my head trying to block out their sounds feeling strangely voyeuristic as Katy cried out into the silent room. In all the times we had been together and touched one another, I'd never seen them indulge in any physical contact apart from a squeeze, hug or peck on the lips, or cheek and this felt as if I was invading their privacy.

I felt slightly uncomfortable on the Sunday morning as Carlisle once more fucked me, muttering about what a 'special boy' I am to him and how much he needs me, but this time as he had me bent over the flogging bench. Katy was crocheting and Anna was folding napkins, totally ignoring us both. No one mentioned the nocturnal activities so I kept quiet and let Carlisle do his thing.

Outside of the dungeon, I spent lots of time with Anna and less and less time with Jasper because she didn't need to work and was still on holiday from university. She seemed at a loose end most of the time and offered to advise me on my purchases for Cambridge. Or rather, she insisted that I let her come with me and help me choose clothes, furniture and all the paraphernalia I would need to make a new home in a strange city. It was, strangely, more fun having an accomplice and visiting the shops in person than doing my usual thing of shopping online. She was a bossy bitch in the shops and badgered the assistants until we got our own way. She loved spending money, and mine even more than her own, or so it would seem. She dragged me from shop to shop trying to force me into grungy clothes, similar to the ones that Jasper wears but I refused. I had my whole future planned out and I needed to dress the part. Although I wear jeans and t-shirts most of the time, I like them to be reasonably smart and always clean. Jasper look like he's dressed in the dark or via the charity shop most of the time.

The one black spot in all of this fun and hilarity was the fact that Jasper wasn't part of my preparations. He was travelling around the country in a tatty old van with his band mates, gigging constantly as they tried to break into the main stream music scene. He was still contractually tied to his dominatrix although she was working abroad quite a lot. She had taken on another, younger submissive so was reasonably happy with the fact that Jasper returned to London less than once a month. When in town, he helped to train Miles, the new boy, and spent time with him in the same way that I did with Annabelle. I missed him but what with getting ready to start my legal training, managing my inheritance and spending time within the lifestyle, I had even less free time than he did.

The last time we met up, it was in a pub in Wandsworth two weeks after I started my training with Carlisle and Katy. They'd given me special dispensation to see him on the Friday evening with the proviso that I didn't drink alcohol and returned to their home before midnight. Midnight? More often than not, Jasper's band didn't even start playing until just before 12:00 and I wasn't impressed by the time limit. I felt like fucking Cinderella and asked Annabelle if I lost one of my shoes if they would hunt down every submissive in London until they found the one who's smelly foot fitted it. She thought I was nuts. She might just have a point.

Jasper had been surprised that I'd managed to restrain myself and resist the whiles of the scantily dressed girls who were all over me like a rash in the club. I explained to him that I was perfectly content with my arrangement with my new lifestyle family. I also told him that frankly my poor cock got so much action every weekend and Wednesday night that the few days I was away from them all were spent ensuring that it didn't drop off, or, in the very least, need a splint, from over use! When I said that I had permanently cramped fingers and wrists and that my tongue and throat were often so sore that I was rendered mute, he almost choked himself on his pint of Guinness. Carlisle and Anna are as insatiable as I am and Carlisle especially can't get enough of me so I have no interest in fucking anyone else and my contract forbids it anyway.

Because of Jasper's involvement in the world of BDSM, I didn't feel disloyal or that I was breaking confidentiality when I told him about my slightly unusual arrangement with Carlisle. We had started having one night now and then where it was just the two of us and quite often, I topped him. He spent the occasional night without me with just Anna and Katy, but never with Anna on her own. She was pissed off about that at first but it didn't last for very long because she knew when it was just the three of us, she would more often than not get penetrated by both of us. She had got over her aversion to anal sex quite suddenly and although she wouldn't let me anywhere near her backside, she let one of us fuck her vaginally whilst either Carlisle fucked her backside or I used a vibrator or dildo on her.

On our first weekend, as Carlisle had promised, we'd spent the Friday evening on our own after supper. We'd fucked one another in their bed whilst Katy and Anna had their crafty time with Katy's sodding napkins downstairs. It took a while for me to penetrate him and I was extra gentle, ensuring that he was as relaxed as possible. He lay on his back with his knees over my shoulders and watched me intently as I touched him. I'm not exactly small and he hadn't had anal sex for years, but we got there in the end. I made sure he came in my mouth first and as he calmed down after his orgasm, I carefully prepped his backside, just the way Riley had done to me on our first night together. It was quite a night. He was so tight that it was borderline painful for me as well as for him. Although he was sore the next day, and said it was like being rodgered by a tree branch, it became quite a regular occurrence and happened at least every other week. Katy blew up a rubber ring for him to sit on and he pretty much sat and directed the scenes that happened both that day and on the Sunday morning. He loved it every bit as much as I did and although Katy and Anna often joined in or watched us, we both preferred it when we were on our own at these times.

After I'd relayed all of this to my best friend, he couldn't believe that a dominant of Carlisle's standing, and reputation, willingly handed control over to me now and then and found the fact that I seemed to be a switch fascinating. He is far more submissive than I am and has no desire to organise a scene or even top another man. I, on the other hand, loved the ritual of planning things out. He said I looked happier than he'd ever seen me, and I told him that Anna was the main reason I was so content. He asked if I was in love with her and I laughed loudly and said, no, but I was very fond of her and she was my exact match so it was a huge pity that I didn't want a relationship with her because it might just work. He said he wanted to meet her if she was this important to me, but oddly I didn't want that just yet. I wanted to keep both areas separate.

"So if you and I _had _fucked, Jasper," I asked him, scowling, in between mouthfuls of crisps and lemonade, "I would've topped you, would I?"

"Yes," he answered, shrugging. "I don't know if I could've handled that thing though!" he laughed.

Life was changing and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. All that was warm and familiar from before was moving away from me. It felt odd that where I'd once been such a big part of the Masen and Whitlock families, I now saw them even less often than Jasper although I did manage to squeeze in a Sunday lunch at the Whitlocks house before I left.

Charlotte, Garrett, Esme, Peter, Rose and Emmett were there and Jasper phoned me from Wick to say he would miss me. I left laden down with presents and I was relieved that everything was back to its sarcastically teasing ways between Rose and I. She was now screwing another friend of ours whose family lived in Devon so she was hardly ever around either, and Emmett was in the thick of his studies and rarely socialised with any of us anymore, spending most of his time with his university friends so without Anna, I would have been very lonely. But we all agreed to meet up at Christmas as usual.

Jace and Riley came back to England when their baby was born and were reconciled with her parents. It would appear that the lure of their only grandchild was seemingly too much of a pull for them after all and they welcomed them back with open arms.

They visited me and stayed at my flat for one night and I was thrilled to see them again. I didn't realise quite how much I missed them until they arrived, loud, overbearing and excitingly inappropriate as ever.

As they walked into my flat for the first time, they thrust a bundle wrapped in a red tartan blanket into my arms and wandered off to explore my home, oohing and aahing at the art work on the walls.

Baby Mistral Samuels was born loud and kicking a couple of days after I'd last visited them. I wondered briefly if our frantic couplings had been the reason for his early arrival but said nothing. As I tugged the blanket away from his face, I virtually stopped breathing. He was beautiful with ruddy cheeks, rosy pink lips and had his mother's bright red hair and his dad's vivid blue eyes. I swallowed the large lump of emotion that leapt into my throat when they said they named him after a specific cold, wild wind that whipped around the Camargue region of France, as well as Riley and his father, Jace's dad and me. His full name was Mistral Riley Benedict Edward Samuels. Poor little sod.

"What?" I asked, stunned. "You named him after me? Why would you do that?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Riley asked, "We both love you and if anything happened to us, we would want you to have him."

Shit.

This was totally unexpected and the second his eyes fix on mine, I am a goner and can't stop staring at him. I was utterly fascinated by the baby. I'd never held a baby before, let alone fed one and after watching her express her milk with a hand pump that looks like a medieval torture implement, I cosseted him in one arm and gently held his bottle in my other hand as he suckled hungrily, holding my finger surprisingly tightly.

Riley ordered a Chinese takeaway for us as I sat on the couch, feeding him, staring at his fingers, unable to look away. It was amazing the way his tiny nose crinkles when he sucked and the speed in which he devoured nine ounces of his mother's milk. His skin is the colour of cream and his bright blue eyes are the colour of cornflowers and he is stunningly lovely. I had to use a fork rather than chopsticks as I needed to concentrate on no dropping anything on the tiny, squiggling thing in my arms.

"Are you okay, Edward?" Jace asked, "Do you want me to take him now?"

"No, it's okay, I want to feed him," I said firmly.

"I need to give him a bath in a minute, he loves his bath, is that okay? I don't have his baby bath with me so we'll either have to use the big bath or the kitchen sink. He's a proper little water baby, just like his daddy," she said, looking at Riley adoringly as her fingers travelled up his jean covered thigh.

Without thinking, I looked up at her. "Can I bathe him?"

"Of course," she said, shrugging as Riley took his son from my arms and cuddled him.

"He's quite something, isn't he, Edward? He'd asked as I nodded. "I had no idea it would feel like this. The second I saw him, it was love at first sight," he muttered as he lifted Mistral up and kissed him. They were identical. Absolutely identical and the way that his eyes softened and crinkled as he gazed at him made me swallow loudly. No-one had ever looked at me like that… especially not my fucking father.

Collecting myself, I put a couple of inches of warm water in the bottom of the large tub and took Mistral from Riley's arms. After stripping his minute clothes off him, I quickly learned an important life lesson. And that was that bathing a tiny, squiggling thing that seems to sprout octopus tentacles when he's happy is _terrifying._ He wouldn't keep still and I was frightened of getting water up his nose and down his throat. Patting him dry, I put a nappy on him surprisingly deftly and then battled to put his Babygro and sleep suit on him as he kicked and squirmed.

Carrying him back into the living room, I sniffed his soft, damp hair. He smelled lovely and I didn't want to let go of him.

I even held him in my arm as we ate our supper and he made frantic snatching grabs for my chop sticks. When we'd finished clearing everything away, I gave them my bed and made my own out of quilts and cushions on the floor beside them as Jace fed her hungry infant. Her breasts looked far too big for him to handle but his tiny hands clutched her and he suckled away contentedly.

"Does that hurt?" I asked as I watched, fascinated as she moved him to the other side. Her nipples were massive and much darker brown than the tawny colour they used to be. "Him sucking like that, I mean? He doesn't stop feeding! He's a gannet and is going to be huge! Does it get sore after a while?"

"No. Not really." She said. "They get a bit dry so I rub some lotion into them when he's finished, but luckily for me, you two bastards meted out so much abuse on my poor tits over the years that they are reasonably hard."

She had a point. We used to both suck and bite her nipples until they were raw, but she could always orgasm when we did that and she could wank us off at the same time, so it was a win win situation all round.

They asked about Annabelle, Carlisle and Katy and I told them as much as I felt comfortable in divulging. I'm meant to be circumspect in my comments about them and the lifestyle but I told them quite a lot about Anna.

"Do you love her?" Riley asked as he snapped open a fortune cookie, "By the way, Edward," he said, unfolding the small piece of paper. "This says '_You will fuckie fuckie your ex teacher and his wife on the balcony tonight, many times,' _okay?" he laughed, slapping me on the arm.

"No I don't, and no I won't!" I laughed back. "She's great and I think we'll stay friends even when this is all over, but no, I don't love her. You know me, Riley, I'm made of ice and I don't love anyone." I said, staring at him pointedly. Despite the amount of times they'd both told me that they loved me, I'd never once responded in kind. I told them I was fond of them and they were my friends, but I also made it quite clear that I didn't 'do' love.

"I think you might quite like my son." Riley stated as he clasped my hand in his. "One day, Edward Cullen," he said, "You'll tell me why you find love and emotion so distasteful. You are not cold and unfeeling, you're loving and tender and a wonderful friend. Not to mention that you are one fucking hot fuck in bed. Well, and on the floor, and in the pool, and on the desk, table, chair, steps, stairs, ladders, against a tree…" he said, sliding his fingers up my bicep and squeezed gently.

"Nothing to tell," I said, curtly as I cleared away the detritus from supper, refusing to say another word on the matter.

They wanted to make up Mistral's travel cot in the living room and for the three of us to spend the night together just like old times, but I declined. They were disappointed but were also impressed that I was taking my new life quite so seriously despite Jace whining and pleading with me to join in so that she could be fucked by both of us at the same time. I did have one little lapse and couldn't resist Jace's offer of a taste of her copious amounts of milk from her massively engorged breasts and had to fight the urge to fuck them. They were hard and hot and huge!

"Fuck, Jace…" I whispered as I spread my fingers widely and tried to cup them fully. I failed. "They're twice the size they usually are…"

"I know. They hurt like fuck as well if he doesn't keep feeding! And my bloody bras are like two hammocks joined in the middle! I hate the bras but I love that no one can resist my breasts. On Sunday night, I had two girls sucking them as I sucked a guy off, I was sitting on Riley and another guy was in my arse. It was amazing! Are you sure you don't want to fuck them, Edward… you know you want to…" she whispered when I touched them greedily as I sucked her nipple. I soon discovered that breast milk is an acquired taste and even when she slid her hand around the back of my neck, holding me closer as she groaned and Riley fondled my backside, I managed to pull away from them both and settle down on my own.

They were their usually loud selves as they fucked without embarrassment in my bed for a large bulk of the night, with their child and me in the same room, but I didn't care. I had no interest in joining them even when she was facing me and our eyes locked as she bounced up and down on her husband.

"Please… Edward…" she panted, "Please… fuck me too…" but I just smiled and turned over. Instead, I lay awake all night watching Mistral as he either slept or kicked and snuffled in his travel cot. I held him a lot during the night and was amazed at the size of his fingers and toes. Sitting cross legged on the sofa, I read him _'The Tales of Piggling Bland,_'—one of the books that my mother had bought for me before I was even conceived. No one else knew this, of course, and I had only been given them when I reached eighteen, along with all the other things that she had bought for me. A large painted box contained blankets, little knitted jackets, hats, gloves and bootees and her diary of her pregnancy. My fuck wit of a father hadn't even bothered to give me these things and instead, they had all remained packed away with the executor of his Will until I came of age. I'd cried when I first opened the box of possessions and when I read her descriptions of how she felt when I moved inside her. It seemed appropriate really that the first time any of the books were read out loud, it was to this beautiful, innocent baby. When he curled his little hand around my index finger, I bent down and kissed him without thinking. As my lips touched his soft head, a jolt of something shot through me and a surge of emotion welled up inside of me. I didn't know what it meant but I quickly put him back in his cot and attempted—and failed—to get some sleep. When he woke up in the early hours of the morning, I changed his nappy and stood outside on my balcony pointing out all of London's famous landmarks to him in the darkness as I gave him a warmed bottle of his mother's milk.

As I stared at him and he looked at me just as intently, unblinking, I sniffed back the tears of anger that threatened to spill. I wondered how my father could have abandoned me to a succession of usually uncaring strangers when I was as innocent and helpless as this baby. How could a parent not love their own child? My heart clenched at the thought that my poor mother never even managed to hold me.

When Mistral fell asleep again, I cooked breakfast for the three of us, and we sat together and chatted just like we did in the old days. They told me that Douglas had stayed on for an extra week after I'd left and had been with them when the baby was born at home in their cottage. I felt a twinge of jealousy that I wasn't with them too and that he held her hand, and sobbed along with them all, whilst Riley cut the cord. I was uncomfortable the way I felt about the fact that he'd held Mistral before I had.

"Aren't you meant to wait for a couple of months or something before you have sex after you've given birth, Jace?" I asked as I munched my toast and marmalade and she held her forever hungry baby to her breast as she sat at the table wearing nothing but a thong. I struggled not to stare at her milky white skin that was oddly laced with pale blue veins. It must be something to do with pregnancy because they never used to look like that. "I don't know much about that kind of shit but I remember something like that from science classes. You need everything to heal, don't you?"

"Edward, baby, this is Jacinta remember? She's as insatiable as you are, love! You of all people should know that! You two used to knacker me out on a regular basis and now she does that on her own. I think I'm getting too old for her because I seriously struggle to keep up with her! She gave me a blow job an hour after he was born! She was like something bloody unhinged!" Riley laughed as he stroked her cheek.

"I'm hornier than ever, Edward," she explained, shrugging. "I know that's hard to believe, even for you, but it's true. I need to cum at least five or six times a day now and Riley's right, he really is struggling to keep up with me. Thank God some of his students are kindly helping him out! Riley and I fucked the day after Mistral was born you know? I couldn't wait any longer! Twenty four hours without an orgasm almost killed me. I went into labour a month early because I forced Riley to fuck my arse and the orgasm was so strong, it triggered off contractions. Even Douglas was shocked that I wanted sex so soon and took the baby for a walk to give us a bit of privacy!" she giggled. "As if we needed that! Anyway, I think I might be pregnant again already and if I'm not, I soon will be!"

"What?" I gasped, dropping my toast onto my plate. "Are you kidding me? He's only five weeks old! You can't possibly be pregnant again already, Jace! You must be nuts if you are! How the fuck are you going to cope with two babies so close together!"

"I want at least six babies," she said, grinning, "And I want to have them really close together and whilst I'm young, so why wait? I want to have them all before I'm thirty and I'm twenty already so we need to hurry up! I didn't realise how wonderful being a mother would be, I love it…" she said as she stroked her baby's soft, peach like head.

"Can you afford it?" I asked, scowling, "And you need to make sure Mistral doesn't feel left out, you know. If you have too many too quickly, how will you give them all the same level of care?" I asked, indignantly.

"The baby won't do without anything, Edward," Riley said, patting my hand, "I promise you that. Business is booming! You wouldn't believe how many people have sexual difficulties and Jace and I are just the ones to help them out. It's insane how uptight some couples are when they arrive and after a couple of days, they are totally reborn. Since we put on our website that she's lactating and is willing to allow both men and women to suckle from her, business has increased tenfold. We've set up six yurts in the paddock behind the cottage now and we're doing really well financially. It would seem that teaching people how to have really good and uninhibited sex is far more lucrative than teaching kids how to play rugby or cricket, I can tell you!"

Dear lord…

"You're quite taken with the baby, aren't you?" Riley asked as I once more cradled his child in my arms, rocking him and humming to him as he fought to keep his eyes open.

"Yes," I said, honestly, "He's lovely."

"You should settle down and have a family you know, Edward," Jace said, smiling. "You'd make a great dad and I don't think you're ever too young to start. You have plenty of money; you wouldn't need to worry about working, would you?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" I said, stunned such a ludicrous suggestion. "I won't ever have a family, I might get a cat when I finish university, but I doubt I'll even have the time to do that!" I said, indignantly as I smiled at Mistral's half closed eyes and milk drizzled lips.

Even when he puked down the back of my brand new t-shirt, I didn't mind, I simply stripped it off and pulled on another one and flung the dirty one in the washing machine.

"God… you're so lovely, Edward…" Jace said, licking her lips and looking me up and down, "Are you sure you don't want to fuck me? Please? Riley can hold the baby whilst we go into the bedroom, can't you, sweetie?" she continued as she trailed her fingers along my chest. I shuddered and my flesh goose bumped as it remembered exactly what her touch could do to it.

"No," I said, chuckling as I swatted her away and stepped back. "Pack it in, Jace! It's a kind offer and your tits look fucking brilliant. I am tempted, I promise you, but no, I've signed a contract and I plan on sticking to our agreement. I really want to learn from them and if I fall at the first temptation, I will be failing myself, every bit as much as I would be failing them. They've been good to me and they really don't deserve me treating them so shoddily. I promised them I would behave and I will." I finished with a resolute nod as I took Mistral into the bathroom and changed his dirty nappy without feeling any kind of discomfort. Somehow it felt completely natural even to a total novice like me.

When I returned to the living room, Riley had made more coffee and as I sat down again, they explained that Mistral's Christening had been arranged for Christmas Eve in the chapel at Eton and I was to be one of his Godfather's whilst his Grandfather conducted the service.

"So you've named him after me and you want me to be his Godfather as well?" I asked, stunned. "You can't do that! I'm too young and I'm certainly not going to be much of an upstanding and good Christian moral influence on him, am I? You must have more suitable friends to guide him! I'm an utter cold hearted fucker!" I said as I covered my mouth and apologised for swearing in front of the baby.

"You're a lovely boy, Edward," Riley said, sighing as he ran his fingers through his curly hair, "I have no idea where you get the idea from that you have a cold heart! You're kind and sweet and we adore you! And we aren't exactly upstanding citizens in the eyes of the church, are we? We want you to be his Godparent, but if you'd rather not, I understand. We could always ask Douglas instead, I suppose, but he doesn't mean as much to us as you do. He would love to do it though…" he finished.

"NO!" I gasped out. "Please don't do that! I want to do it! It will be an honour to do that. Blimey… Godfather Edward… I sound like a member of the fucking mafiosa!"

I was completely overwhelmed and without telling them, I decided that the next day I would go to see my solicitor and immediately set up a trust fund in Mistral's name. I knew I'd never get married or have a family of my own so this child was the closest thing I would have and I wanted to make sure that he had everything he'd need when he was older. I didn't tell them of my plans and decided to give them the package of documents when I next saw them.

Annabelle turned up just as they were getting ready to leave on the Wednesday morning because as ever, she wanted to go shopping. I knew she was just being nosy frankly, but I didn't really mind. She held my hand a little bit too tightly and a little bit too territorially for my liking and the two girls seemed wary of one another at first. Baby Mistral broke the ice by throwing up all over my crotch, but however much she pleaded with me to let her hold him, I refused. I lay him on the bed as I changed my clothes and chatted away to him before I picked him up again immediately. As he lay sleeping with his head on my shoulder, his tiny fingers gripped my t-shirt and I was really not ready to give up his soft warmth and feeling of closeness. Riley insisted on taking pictures of us all together and my favourite one is, of course, the one of me holding my future Godchild as we stared at one another yet again.

When they left, I felt quite sad though I had absolutely no idea why. Annabelle said the odd feeling I had is love and I told her not to be so fucking stupid. How the hell could I feel love for someone else's baby whom I had spent a mere twenty four hours with? When she went on to espouse the fact that you can fall in love at first sight with anyone or anything, I burst out laughing and told her to bugger off.

After having a shower, where she sat on the toilet and yakked to me as I washed and shaved, I got dressed and we headed off to Katy's café. We were meeting her and Carlisle there for a light supper before we went back to the dungeon for a night of—hopefully—unbridled lust and debauchery.

Sunday morning was the first time I'd faced the serious wrath of Katy. I was supposed to pose on all fours with my head dropped as she carefully placed a line of starched, swan shaped napkins along my spine. After twenty minutes, my arms cramped and due to lack of sleep, I dropped forwards slightly and the napkins fell off. She went crazy because not only had I soiled her beloved linens but I'd failed what was a very simple test. I tried to explain the reasons for my tiredness but she said she wasn't interested in excuses. She said it was my responsibility to be well rested for their use. She had a point and after I'd asked her forgiveness, as Carlisle had instructed me to do, she flogged me really hard. It hurt like hell because she was far stronger than her husband when she meted out punishment. I didn't safe word and just bit my lip as she raged around the room, before she massaged me with arnica lotion. She then stomped off upstairs to do whatever she wanted to do and Carlisle fucked Anna as I sat in my submissive position, staring at a mark on the tiled floor as I listened to their grunts and cries of pleasure and felt like shit, but I learned my lesson.

….

October came around far more quickly than I'd anticipated. My time with Katy, Carlisle and Annabelle was going far more smoothly than I'd hoped and we had quickly settled into a successful routine. When we had our chats on a Sunday evening regarding how the scenes had gone, they both seemed pretty happy with me and my progress. Carlisle in particular was always very effusive in his praise to the point that Katy would pat him on his hand and tell him to calm down a little bit. Anna and I enjoyed playing together more every time and I have to say, her piercings were fucking great. The first time she gave me a blow job and rolled her stud up and down my shaft, I came within minutes. She laughed like a drain as I got paddled for losing control. She didn't laugh quite so loudly when she got caned for insubordination.

The day for me to leave London came almost unexpectedly and I was surprised when Anna insisted on seeing me off one crisp Friday morning. I was driving to Cambridge a few days early to enable me to settle in before I started my degree course on the Monday. Although I would be missing a weekend with Carlisle and Katy, and of course Annabelle, it couldn't be helped and they understood that despite our agreement, my studies had to come first at all times.

I was driving so it wasn't like she needed to wave me off, handkerchief in hand and bid me adieu at my train slowly chugged out of the station, but she wanted to give me a good luck gift and I was touched to be honest. Jasper was in Edinburgh doing his musical stuff so couldn't be around and although I'd told my aunt in a letter that I was leaving for university, she hadn't responded. I guess she's still pissed off that this golden goose was no longer laying the valuable eggs that she had become so accustomed to, to keep her furnished with gin.

All morning I trundled up and down in the lift as I packed my car with the last few things that I still needed to take with me to my new abode. Because of where my building is on the banks of the Thames, there is no close parking and I had a five minute walk to and from the parking area so it took an age to finish. I was glad that I'd rented rooms on the campus with easy parking, rather than buying a small flat in the town itself as Carlisle had suggested. He said it would be a great investment because being such a famous university town; it would never lose its value. I think he quite liked the idea of them all visiting me but I said no, because in all honesty, I didn't want the two very separate factions of my life crossing over and I didn't want to add any more property to the Cullen portfolio.

Carlisle knows that I come from money, my education is testament to that, but he has absolutely no idea how much I'm worth. And I most certainly would never tell him. The amount I already own is obscene as it is and it is embarrassing, so I never tell anyone how much money I have. It made me feel ill to think that one family could own so much—hence giving vast chunks away to charity as a salve for the guilt I still feel over the way my father behaved.

Clamping my bike onto the frame that I'd had fitted to the boot of my new car, I rattle it firmly to make sure it's safe before I put the rain cover over it. Cambridge is a large and sprawling town and everyone cycles their way around it so rather than rent a bike, I decided to take my own, new shiny black baby that is my pride and joy, with me. My black mini is my latest purchase and I love the freedom that this latest toy has afforded me. Anna and I often take off and drive to Brighton or head off into the Chilterns or Cotswold's on a whim.

The final thing I placed in the foot well in the front of my car is the series of framed photographs I'd taken of Riley, Jacinta and Mistral sitting on a large rock on the amazing wild coast line when I'd popped over to Ireland for a couple of days the previous week.

That baby completely owns me now and I ring them every day to see how he is. They're already planning on him coming to visit me on his own when he gets older and I'm chuffed that they think enough of me and trust me to look after their child. This is years ahead of us, of course, but I am already looking forward to it.

Jace was right, she is pregnant again, and by the time Mistral is christened at Christmas, she will be three and a half months gone. At this rate, they'll have an army of kids and despite looking after a new born, and being pregnant again, Jacinta is livelier than ever. They were once more very surprised and just as disappointed as before when I refused to join in their fucking soiree. Carlisle had given me leave to masturbate if I needed to when I was with them so long as I didn't allow myself to be touched or to touch anyone else. As they were joined by four other couples on my first night there, the site of this orgy left me hot and bothered, but once again, I managed to resist the temptation. Instead, I took the sleeping baby for a long walk along the beach while they did their thing and set up my tripod, taking pictures of the crashing waves and the vivid stars. I took hundreds of pictures when I was there and once more, the odd clenching in my chest area took place when I kissed Mistral on the head at the airport and told him that _"Uncle Edward will be back to see him soon."_

Yeah…

Uncle Edward.

That name sort of crept up on me unannounced but oddly, I like it. They are, thankfully, as happy together as they always have been and the arrival of Mistral seems to have only added to this bliss. At times I quite envy them, but I still have no desire to follow their path. I'm much too selfish to devote myself to anyone but myself.

He cried when I handed him over to his father and I faltered for a moment, itching to take him back from Riley.

As I'm shoving the cloth covered pictures into my car, two hands squeeze my arse cheeks and shocked, I lift my head up so quickly, I whack the crown off the edge of the door and bellowed in pain.

"What the fucking hell are you doing?" I yell, as I spin around.

"You're so cute when you're pissed off, Eddie!" she giggles as she kisses me on the lips. "Do you want any help? Or have you almost finished packing the Tardis? I thought you only had a couple of things to take up with you today?"

"Bloody hell, Anna! What the hell is the matter with you? SHIT! My head is really sore now…" I grumble out. "You could have just called out to me, you idiot! You didn't have to grab me like that!"

"Oh shut up, you big baby," she chuckles as she rubs the rapidly rising bump far too hard, making it hurt even more. "I came to kiss you bye byes! Stop whining!"

Huffing, I shove her firmly and am surprised when she grabs my hand and kisses the back of it, holding it tightly against her damp feeling cheek. She quickly pulls away and hands me a small package.

"What's this?" I ask her, frowning as I look at the package and the strange way that she is acting.

"Open it and see numb nuts!" she laughs.

"My nuts aren't numb and if I wasn't driving north soon, I'd take you to Carlisle and ask him if I could show you how well they're functioning right now, bitch! I could do with a fuck before I leave!" I laugh as I wave the parcel at her.

"Fuck off and open it, you fool!" she laughs. "And listen to me and believe me when I tell you aren't getting near me again until next weekend, big boy! You were like some sort of fucking animal! What the hell was wrong with you? Jesus! My pussy is still throbbing after Wednesday night. I don't know what you were eating but Christ, you lasted so fucking long that I'm raw! How do you have so much stamina, Eddie? Carlisle was buried in your arse, Katy was flogging your back and you were fucking me. And you still lasted longer than any of us! I don't think the poor flogger will ever recover. I know Katy got fed up waiting for one of you to play with her and entertained herself, but she really should have put a condom on its handle first; you know… it isn't very hygienic to have leather shoved up your hooha…"

Laughing, I nod and look at the parcel. She'd drawn little silver stars all over the wrapping paper and I stroke my fingers across it. She's taken so much care and it looks really pretty. Upon opening it slowly, she grumbles about me being so anal that I don't even like to tear paper. I raise my eyebrows at her, grinning. Little does she know that when my father died, I didn't get another gift until I met Jasper and his family. I learned to take my time when an unexpected present was handed to me because it always came as a surprise. My smile disappears immediately when I see what is inside the brown paper, tied up with string, and she blushes and my mouth opens and closes in shock.

"Anna, it's… it's… I mean… to say… it's… it's just…" I begin stunned to virtual silence.

"I made it…" she says.

"What?" I ask as I run my fingers over the embroidered script. The creamy ivory linen is peppered with a stark black letters and is strikingly lovely. "Don't be ridiculous! You couldn't have made this? It's wonderful! Where did you buy it from?"

"Shut up, idiot! I'm good at this kind of shit, you know! I've had enough fucking nannies trying to make me into a lady and I can knit, sew, embroider and crochet, so if you don't shut the fuck up, I'll crochet you a jock strap! Added to that, I'm a fucking seriously lapsed Catholic, Eddie boy, and believe in Saints and angels and all that shit!" she laughs. "I fear I might burst into flames if I walked across the threshold of my parish church now and the priest would have heart failure if he knew what I'd become!" she giggles, wiggling her bottom in my direction. "That's why I have a tiny tattoo of a cross hidden in amongst my hair. It acts as a reminder of what I believe in deep down and where I came from and in a futile bid for God to look after me despite the fact that I've flouted virtually every one of his Commandments," she says, shrugging as she chews one of her fingernails.

"Don't be silly, Anna," I say, tugging her pig tail firmly, "There's nothing wrong with you! You won't burn in hell! You fuck married people with the permission of their other half so technically, they aren't committing adultery and you don't do anything else untoward, so why are you frightened of going to the place where you need to wear fire retardant clothing? You don't drink and drive, you don't take drugs and you're nice—well… some of the time you are anyway, you just fuck strangers and have your arse paddled!"

"You aren't religious, Edward, I was always told that my mortal soul would be tarnished if I misbehaved. Christ only knows where my parents and I will end up with the way we all behave! Anyway, I don't want to talk about that shit just now!" she huffs.

"Okay, so what is this?" I ask pointing to her gift. "I mean… its lovely, but what exactly is it?"

"Well… don't laugh… please… this is something important to me. This is the Saint Thomas More prayer, written especially for lawyers and solicitors. I thought it was quite appropriate with what you are about to embark on. You won't laugh at it, will you?" she asks, looking nervous. "I mean… if you don't like it… you won't laugh… you won't, will you?"

"Shut up and don't be so bloody stupid, Anna," I say, "Get on with it! Tell me about it, and I won't laugh at it because I fucking love it!"

"Oh, okay… well… if you're sure… right. Well, he was a lawyer and was made a Saint after he was executed by Henry VIII. He was the King's advisor and confidante for years. I love this prayer and thought that it might just keep you safe and on the straight and narrow when you learn how to twist people around your finger even more than you can now! Anyway, I want you to say it out loud before you defend the unworthy in court. Okay? It will keep your soul safe…"

I'd never have believed that she was this worried about what would happen to us when we die. I guess I don't know her that well at all really…

"I can't believe it…" I murmur as I turn my attention back to the wonderfully thoughtful gift and begin stroking the stiffened linen lightly.

"What can't you believe? That I can do tapestry and embroidery? Yeah… I'm not exactly the classic example of a domestic goddess, am I, Eddie boy!" she says, sounding irate. "But I'll have you know that I'm not just a good fuck! What don't you believe? That I can thread a needle? Arse wipe! You're a pig! I'm good at this stuff!" she hisses, sounding pissed off as she scowls at me and puts her hands on her hips.

"God no!" I laugh, "I never doubted that you'd be able to do this kind of stuff. You have amazingly strong, dextrous hands!" I laugh, waggling my eyebrows at her suggestively. "And anyway, you've spent so much time with Katy; I knew you'd be crafty in some way, Anna. No, what I can't believe is that you're a Catholic! You're a deviant! No wonder you struggle to reconcile that with religion, we'll both singe away in the bowels of hell together. You're so pale, it will do you good to end up there, you need a bit of a tan to take the blue tinge away!" I bellow with laughter.

"Bastard!" she yelps as she hits me on the arm.

"I'm kidding, Anna," I say, more quietly now, "I'm really touched… I can't believe you made this for me… it must have taken you ages… thank you… I love it…"

"Don't be a sap…" she mutters. "And for Christ's sake, don't make it a bigger deal than it is. I didn't want to waste any money buying you something that you didn't want or need and if you hate it, shove it in a cupboard. Okay? It didn't take me that long… you aren't worth days and days of work. It didn't take a lot of work… well it did really… but, well… I'm going to miss you…"

"For God's sake, I'll be back on Friday night, Anna! I promise you, I'll be fucking you soundly again before you know it. And after not having sex tonight, brace yourself, because by the time we've all finished with you, you won't be able to sit down on Saturday!" I say, only half joking and as her eyes fill with tears, I'm shocked that she really means it. "Well… I'll miss you too, I really will." And suddenly, I realise that this is the truth, I really will miss her. "But we can text, email and Skype and I really will be back on Friday evening."

"It's Fresher's Week, Eddie, you won't want to come back, you'll soon pull away from us all, you know you will. Looking the way you do, you'll be in huge demand." She says, sighing as she smoothes along the parting of her hair.

"I don't want any of that. I've been there and done that more times than I care to admit when I was at Eton, it bores me now, Anna. I'll attend a few of the do's and events in the first week so I can meet some of the other's on my course, that's all. I'm not interested in having a social life up there, that's not why I'm going to university. I've promised to stick to my agreements and you lot are very important to me now, I won't leave you all behind, I promise…" I say, squeezing her fingers.

"You will, Edward," she says, "I know you will. I'm at uni too, remember? Few notice me because I dress oddly, but some of those girls are absolute whores, you will be ankle deep in thongs in your first couple of days, and you know it! I bet it won't only fucking thongs either. Cambridge has great rowing and rugby teams and I know you're going to join both of those eventually. You'll be up to your knees in jock straps too when those bastards catch sight or you and your cock! You'll be fighting them off with your oar or your oval shaped ball!"

"Well that might or might not be true, Anna, I won't know until I get there, will I? But I'm really not interested, you know? I get all I need from the three of you and I can't wait for the party next weekend, I doubt that many of the girls in Cambridge would be thrilled to know that I will be running back to London every weekend to return to my life as a submissive!" I say, smiling at her. "And I won't be joining anything too sporty for the first term or two. I really want to do well with my studies."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Eddie boy! You shone at both of those at Eton and you know how sporty you are. And remember you're training to be a liar—Ooops, I mean, _lawyer_!" she laughs, "You'll be able to keep both sides of your life separate and shag your way around Cambridge without slipping up and letting Katy and Carlisle know, won't you?"

"No, I'm serious. I honestly don't want that kind of shit…" I say, stroking her face gently. "I won't be screwing anyone but you three and whoever they give me to, I don't need anything else but that, for now anyway. Now shut the fuck up, you, and let me enjoy my present!"

She smiles and nods but the grin doesn't reach her eyes as she stares at me intently. "If you say so…"

"I do, so stop worrying!" I say.

Leaning back against my car, I begin to read the embroidered words out loud.

"_Pray that, for the glory of God and in the pursuit of His justice, I may be trustworthy with confidences, keen in study, accurate in analysis, correct in conclusion, able in argument, loyal to clients, honest with all, courteous to adversaries, ever attentive to conscience. Sit with me at my desk and listen with me to my clients' tales. Read with me in my library and stand always beside me so that today I shall not, to win a point, lose my soul. _

_Pray that my family may find in me what yours found in you: friendship and courage, cheerfulness and charity, diligence in duties, counsel in adversity, patience in pain—their good servant, and God's first. Amen."_

Wow.

I really wasn't expecting that.

"This is an amazing gift, Anna. The words are perfect. I get the legal part in the first paragraph, but what does the family bit mean in the second one?" I ask, looking up at her.

"You, Katy and Carlisle are my family now… I get more care and affection from you three than I ever got from my family and other supposed friends…" she finishes, looking as if she's about to burst into tears.

"Pack it in before we both end up crying!" I say, trying to sound light hearted. "I love it, Anna and it'll go on the wall above my desk and whenever I feel my soul slipping towards the fiery, flame raddled place below, I'll read it!"

"Fucker!" she says, grabbing me and holding me close. "Be safe…"

"I will," I say, pecking her on the top of her head, "And I'll ring you when I settle in tonight, okay?"

"Yes… don't forget to ring me… please… as soon as you get there… Katy wants you to ring her first but if you ring me before her I won't tell her, so please ring me first… and don't forget…"

"I won't… I promise…"

As I drive away, I look in my rear view mirror. She's standing still with one arm raised in a sort of unmoving wave. She looks so sad and shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I force myself to fix on the road in front of me.

…..

My lodgings in Cambridge are old and slightly shabby around the edges, much in the same way as my rooms in Eton were, but I like the fact that the walls are soaked in history. I was lucky to get the rooms I did, and I've been backwards and forwards a few times over the last eight weeks getting everything just so.

Parking outside the dark brown bricked building, I start to lug my belongings upstairs. Oddly, there's no one around, and six trips later, I'm finished and I park my car in the bay that I've reserved. Locking the door behind me for the first time, I turn around and survey the space that's going to be my home for the next four years, during term time, anyway. The final door at the end of a long, dark corridor leads to my rooms and I like the fact that I'm tucked away. I know I'll be comfortable here. I have a large, rectangular room that acts as both a bedroom and sitting room with two floor to ceiling windows covered in heavy light grey curtains and the same colour blinds. Despite the fact that it's late autumn, the suite is north facing and the algidity makes me turn the heating on immediately and tug a rugby jersey on over my t-shirt. Cambridge is on the fens and as such, is colder and damper than the Thames valley.

Being my usually anally retentive self, I wanted to ensure that everywhere was spotless so I had the place professionally cleaned before I had my furniture delivered. I'd had it decorated to make the most of what the space has to offer me. The walls are a crisp matt white and all the woodwork has been painted in a dazzling, high gloss white, making most of the light.

There's a small, oak panelled study that leads off of the main room and a separate bathroom that thankfully I don't have to share and that has a large old fashioned ornate radiator which means it will be warm when the weather gets colder. Two walls of the study are filled with shelves and are packed with the dozens of legal books that I'd bought and had delivered to my quarters as well as other books, CD's and DVD's. A brand new computer sits on the next with a printer and huge pile of paper beside it. A large double bed is against the wall opposite the door and I bought a large wooden tri-fold screen to separate this area from the recreational part of the room. I'd ordered a large squishy suede couch and a leather arm chair from Heal's and these now sit opposite the gas fire and there is a huge plasma screen TV above it. Annabelle's influence is evident in the copious amounts of cushions and picture frames that are now dotted all over the place and the thick fluffy duvet and mountains of pillows that cover the bed. She had insisted that I bought two hot water bottles and an electric blanket as well as two heavy weight blankets and a fifteen tog quilt to take with me, and feeling how chilly the room is, I'm glad I listened to her. Her grandmother lived near here and she warned me how different it felt to London. A small table and two chairs sit between the tall windows and gives me a lovely view of the communal grounds below.

A large walk in storage cupboard that acts as a wardrobe leads off the main room and is lined with clothes rails and shelves meaning that I can keep everything neat and tidy and out of sight. Each shelf is labelled and stacked with clothes, folders for my studies and shoes. A tiny kitchenette leads off this main room and there's just enough room for a cooker, fridge freezer, sink and two wall and base units stuffed with crockery, cutlery and my new pots and pans. She'd wanted me to buy brightly coloured and wildly patterned china but I put my foot down and bought simple white crockery and elegantly plain, stainless steel cutlery. I did spend quite a lot on my pots, pans and casserole dishes because I loved to cook and knew that the better your equipment, the longer it lasted. Just because I had millions in the bank didn't mean to say I wanted to waste it but my one nod to a bit of colour was the chili pepper pot plant.

Opening the fridge, I sigh. It's empty of course but when I drove up two weeks before, I turned it on so that it'd be ready to fill. I've got used to looking after myself, food and shopping wise and thankfully, Katy had told me to get a large cool box and buy essentials before I left London.

Unpacking the box, I fill the fridge with my supplies of milk, cheese, fruit, vegetables, bread and olive oil before I tackle the two large carrier bags stuffed with pasta, rice, flour, stock cubes and tins containing beans, spaghetti, tuna and soup. There are jars of jam, pickles, chutneys and marmalade that Katy and Anna had made for me and even a large flowery tin filled to the top with my favourite ginger biscuits. Anna still loves to call me 'ginger nuts' in reference to the golden fuzz that covers my balls and pubic area in between shaving sessions, so whenever she wanted to tease me or take the piss, she baked me ginger biscuits. They'd even put some napkins and cleaning cloths in the bottom of the bag to make sure I had everything.

Bless them, they'd thought of everything and I smile to myself as I line the shelves with the jars filled with jewel coloured goodies onto a shelf next to the sink. I feel a twinge of something I can imagine is homesickness as I stroke my fingers over the description of the contents written in Katy's distinctive script before I shove them all in one of the cramped cupboards. I don't like bright colours in much the same way as I hate clutter. I prefer a minimalistic, neutral, cool, simple pallet and the jars are just too gaudy for me.

Next, I line up the simple glass, silver topped jars that are filled with pasta, flour, sugar and cereals. The lentils, dried peas, beans and every kind of pulse you can imagine suffer the same fate as the first batch of jars. I'd spent the evening before filling them up ready for today before the empty packets were dispatched into the recycling bin. My anally retentively tidy, precise streak is becoming more and more obvious, even to me and as I place the three pairs of brightly coloured rubber gloves under the sink, I wince slightly when I realise that there are more cleaning products in this flat than food.

The final things I put away are in the freezer. There are sausages, bacon, several Tupperware pots of lasagne, chicken curry, lamb casserole and shepherd's pie that Katy had made me.

The only thing the rooms doesn't have space for is a washing machine and tumble drier so I have to either use the communal one or take it back to London with me every weekend. I can't be arsed to do either because I know how busy I'm going to be trying to juggle everything else. So I'd had the foresight to employ someone to clean up after me and to do my laundry at the same time.

My next chore is to make my brand new, wooden king sized bed with snowy white cotton bed linen. As I smooth the duvet down to remove any residual creases, I stand back and observe my handiwork. The room looks lovely. There's a small bedside cabinet next to my bed with a chrome angle poise lamp on top of it.

After I've put everything else away in the walk-in cupboard, I quickly dust and run a hoover over the clean wooden floor, reminding myself that I need to bring a rug from my London flat to make the floor feel warmer. I pour some Bergamot oil into a small burner and light the candle underneath to remove the slight paint odour that dominates the rooms. After I've opened a bottle of water and make a toasted cheese sandwich, I grab a napkin before I sit down at the computer.

There are messages from Anna, Katy, Carlisle, Charlotte, Emmett, Riley, Jace, Rose, Esme, Douglas and of course Jasper, all wishing me good luck with my studies. The final one is a message from Mistral and as I open it, there's a picture of his gummy smile grinning at me as he tries to grab the camera from Jacinta's hand and it says "_To Uncle Edward, dribbles from Misty!"_

There's no way in God's name I'm calling him 'Misty'—that's a dog's name for goodness sake! His given name is airy fairy enough, poor little sod, without them saddling him with anything even more ridiculous. Goodness knows what the next one will be called.

Anna's message in particular is sweet and touching. She tells me that I'm the best friend she's ever had and I've made her a different person. She says that I've not to get even more big headed than I am because I'm really not all that special, but she's so happy we're friends. She says that she'll miss me, even though she doesn't want to, and that I need to behave myself or she'll dob me in to Katy so that I get paddled soundly. She also says that I mustn't get any more big headed about my looks and the size of my cock because it might drop off with arrogance.

Laughing at her silliness and humour, I stand up from my desk and grab a hammer and nail from my small toolbox—provided by Garrett for all and any eventualities—and hang up the tapestry that she made me. It sits exactly opposite me and I smile when I re-read the message. Next I put my mother's photograph on the left hand side of my desk and Mistral's on the right.

Just as I pick up my mobile to ring her and thank her for her sort of kind words it rings.

"Hello?"

"DON'T YOU 'HELLO' ME, EDWARD FUCKING CULLEN!" she yells, "WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU RING ME AS SOON AS YOU ARRIVED? I THOUGHT YOU'D HAD AN ACCIDENT! KATY AND CARLISLE ARE FRANTIC! WHERE WERE YOU? DIDN'T YOU EVEN THINK ONE OF US WOULD CARE? HUH?"

"Hello to you too, Annabelle! It's great to hear your dulcet tones again! I've missed your quiet voice because it's like, what, six hours since we last spoke? Huh? Maybe you could try shouting a bit louder next time. I missed several of your consonants and the next Halls of Residence didn't quite catch your first expletive!" I say, laughing as I rub my potentially bleeding left ear. "I've only just finished unpacking! I had just opened your email and had the phone in my hand to ring you and you beat me to it!"

"Yeah… well…" she says, "That isn't the only thing getting beaten on Friday when you come home after you've left us all so worried. I was really concerned when you didn't ring so I rang Katy to see if they'd heard from you either and she is fuming. I thought you'd had an accident or something awful like that… is everything okay? What are your rooms like? Have you got everything you need? Did you manage to park your car okay? Have you got enough food in? Do you want me to bring anything up to you? I could drive up tomorrow, I don't have lectures again until Monday now and Katy says she will leave the café and come with me. Do you need me to come up?"

"No, thanks, Annabelle," I say, firmly. "I've got everything I need and I'll be back a week today. Don't worry, love. I need to do this on my own for now. I need to settle in and meet people and that won't happen if you two come up and cosset me. I'll be fine. Now tell me, are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" she says a little too brightly. "Of course I am! I'm really okay! Why couldn't you study law in London? Why did you have to go to Cambridge? Huh? Anyway, it doesn't matter now. I'm just leaving home now. I thought I might get to Carlisle's early and cook for them and Katy wants me to help her make our outfits for the play party next weekend. And no, don't ask, I'm not telling you what we will be wearing. God, I'm bored. I miss you annoying me. Wednesday afternoon is going to be fucking horrible. It's really odd without you, Eddie," she says, sounding petulant.

"Well it feels strange for me too, but we have to get used to it, Annabelle. We have four years of this! You'll finish two years before me and I won't be coming back during the week unless I'm on holiday so we'd better just make the best of it and enjoy the time we do have together. Okay?" I say, trying to sound stronger than I feel right now.

After I finish our conversation and respond to all my messages, I decide to take a stroll around the town to get my bearings. Cambridge is a stunningly beautiful city and I feel at home immediately. The architecture is breathtaking and I become an archetypal tourist as I snap incessantly with my trusty Nikon as I lose myself in the alleyways and nooks and crannies of an ancient town. It has an oldie worldy air about it, similar to both Windsor and London. As I dodge my way in and out of the throng of cycling students and lecturers as I wander around the cobbled streets, I make a mental note to find my way around on foot before I take to two wheels.

As the light begins to change and a biting chill fills the air, I pack my camera away and pull on a sweater as I sit outside a pub on the banks of the River Cam and sip a pint of lager. I watch the punts moving slowly downstream, drifting seemingly effortlessly in the autumn chill. They are universally filled with drunken, squawking girls and preening males who are manning the large poles that move the long, flat boats along the calm river. Swans, ducks and moorhens dodge the inconvenient traffic with aplomb, seeming not to notice the swerving vehicles. Chuckling to myself at the thought that this would be my dominatrix's idea of paradise, I snap a few photographs and text them to Katy telling her that she would love it here.

As the sun slides beneath the horizon, I wander slowly back to my quarters, digging my hands deeply into the pockets of my jeans in a bid to keep them warm, window shopping in the countless bookshops en route.

My building feels comfortingly warm after the coldness of the night air and my fingers feels stiff as I grasp the hand rail of the stairs and use it to pull myself upwards to my rooms.

"Who are you?" a plummy, shrill voice asks as I put my key in the lock of my door. "What's your name and what are you studying? When did you move in and are you happy here? How old are you and are you friendly?"

Turning around, I frown at the litany of questions being fired in my direction.

A rather large, almost rectangular shaped, bespectacled girl is standing opposite me. She's so tall that I suspect she's taller than Katy. She's wearing a sort of tunic thing that sits just above her knees, then there's a flowery, loose skirt that finishes mid-calf below that before the final layer of leggings and flat shoes and she has her brows raised questioningly as she looks me up and down. Added to all of this, she has a long, baggy shocking orange cardigan and a turquoise body warmer sits on top of that. She has a bulging messenger bag across her body and a large bundle of books under her left arm. Her mousy brown hair looks like it has been chewed rather than cut and sits lankly just below her ears and is tucked behind them showing them off to their full advantage. They stick out. Her glasses are round and wire rimmed. She has quite thin lips and long gums with tiny, creamy white teeth. She isn't good looking, it has to be said, and the way she's dressed means that she somewhat resembles an under stuffed couch.

"I'm Clarissa, and I think we're neighbours! How exciting! Don't you think? Yes? No? I do! It's so nice to have a boy living next door to me! Don't you agree? Actually, I'm the Honourable Clarissa Farquharson-Stoker to be precise, but no one bothers with any of that nonsense here, so you can call me Clarissa. Who are you?"

Christ.

She speaks more than Annabelle and Katy put together and for the first time in my life, I'm somewhat overwhelmed by a female and am suitably stunned to silence.

"Don't you understand English? Ah! Comprendez vouz? Are you a foreign student? How jolly exciting! Okay, I'll speak more slowly! W.H.A.T I.S Y.O.U.R N.A.M.E? Um… parlez-vous Anglais? No? Oh. Bugger. Right. Sprechen ze Deutsch? Well, that wouldn't work either, because I can get by in French, sort of but I don't speak German. Sod it… let me go and ask your other neighbour. Are you Russian? Roooooski? Qui? Ja? Non? Nein? Bugger it. Oh well, you look Russian. Maybe you're Italian? No, you have ginger hair, you can't be Italian… IRISH! YES! Irish! But the Irish speak English so I don't understand why you don't understand me! Um… let me think… ginger hair… green eyes…"

Fucking hell!

"Can you just stop?" I say, exasperated. "I'm most certainly not Italian, and as far as I'm aware, my mother didn't have a dalliance with anyone called Boris, but with my colouring I could have Irish or Scottish blood I guess. My name is Edward Cullen and I can assure you I'm English and if you don't mind, I don't have ginger bloody hair! It's bronze!" I huff. "Anyway, forget that for now, it's nice to meet you, Clarissa," I say, reaching out. Her palm is sweaty and her grip could give both Anna and Katy a run for their money. "I'm studying law, how about you?" I ask.

"Oh, how terribly jolly! The Law! Yippee! If I ever get into trubs, you can help me out, can't you? Well, I'm studying dry and dusty economics but I'm terribly good at mathematics and not much else so Daddy insisted that I follow that path. I'd rather have worked as a stable hand but hey ho! It is what it is. Well! We're neighbours! How lovely!" she says enthusiastically. "Come in and have a drinky! Come on! In you come! I absolutely insist! I've got a bottle of wine in the sink, chilling, and I've just grilled some bacon! Or you could have some sherry and sardines on toast if you'd prefer! Mumsie packed me an entire tuck box of yummy snacks to scoff whenever I get the urge and it's terribly exciting! It's like being back at Bedales! Did you go to boarding school? I bet you did! Harrow? Eaton? Wellington College? Oh do tell! I'm so happy here! Do come in! I hate to eat alone, come on in and have supper with me and have a little chat! When did you arrive? Where are you from? Who are your family? Are they Cambridge scholars too? Daddy came here and studied latin, so did my brother, only he studied mechanical engineering but he had to leave after his second year after he was caught with the grounds man's sheep dog in flagrante… he always was odd compared to us and we're a strange bunch!" she bellows and I fear a perforation coming on. As I frown at her, she blushes. "Well… never mind… perhaps it's best not to mention that on our first evening together! I don't want to shock you!" she cackles. Her laugh is a combination of a snort, screech and guffaw and sounds like a kookaburra trying to pluck itself painfully whilst pecking a donkey or mule. "Come on, Edward Cullen, come in and have a wee drinky poo with Rissy!"

Oh my good God… another highly verbose, bossy female! What is it with me and domineering, stroppy, mouthy females?

"Yeah," I say, shrugging, "Okay, why not?"

Clarissa's rooms are smaller than mine and are so cluttered that I can scarcely get between the floral arm chair and large, tatty old red velvet sofa that vie for space with a footstool, coffee table and tea trolley on wheels. But it's warm. Deliciously hot in fact.

"Thinking of serving afternoon tea regularly?" I ask, grinning at her as I point to the shabby cream plastic thing on rickety looking wheels.

"What?" she asks and as her gaze follows my finger, she chuckles. "Oh no, dear boy, my rooms are made up of all the bits and bobs that daddy found in the byre. You know? All the things that no one else wants or needs?"

Feeling embarrassed for her, I change the subject quickly. "It's lovely and cosy in here," I say. "My rooms are freezing. I've had the heating on since lunchtime and they are still icy cold, that's partly why I went for a walk, my fingers were turning blue."

"Oh, someone mentioned that a few of the rooms are very chilly and that the caretaker needs to work his magic with his spanner! You poor darling! You can come in and have supper with me whenever you want to. You can sleep here too if you want to, I have a spare quilt and the couch is terribly comfortable if not a little bit smelly. The byre was damp you see? It does get jolly lonely in here on my own when one has slept in dorms all one's life, don't you agree?"

"I always had my own room at Eton." I say, shrugging as she pours me a glass of wine. "I like my own space. I have pretty much always lived on my own when not at school. I don't need company."

"I knew you went there or Harrow!" she chatters on, nineteen to the dozen ignoring my comments about the need for space. She then tells me how thrilled she is to have another first year next to her because we can sit together at lunch and study together in our rooms in the evenings or in the library when we have free time.

Over my dead body...

When she dashes into the kitchenette to make our sandwiches, I look around. Every inch is stuffed to the gunnels with books, magazines, ornaments, plastic flowers, pot plants, wall hangings, paintings, records—yes, she has a record player—CD's and photographs. Brown seems to be the pervading colour and every pattern know to human kind competes for dominance. It's so overwhelming that my head starts to throb as flowers, stripes, checks, swirls and zigzags dance before my eyes. I thought the Muswell Hillbilly had clutter in her hovel but this is in a league of its own. There are dozens of photographs of men in kilts and a large bronze statue of a stag sits on top of the bulky old fashioned television in the corner.

"I see you're looking at my grandfather's prize kill!" she laughs as she plonks two chipped enamel plates and a bottle HP Sauce on the table along with two pieces of paper towel to be used as napkins. My OCD almost renders me unable to pick up the less than perfect receptacle but I manage to hide the crack with the paper so that I don't have to look at it. "He was so terribly proud of the stag he brought down." She continues as I sip the much too sweet wine from the plastic beaker. "He hunted it for YEARS before he got it! The poor beast was on its last hooves due to its age, and there's some debate as to whether it was already dead, but he still pranced around bragging that he'd killed the Monarch of the Glen!" Her snorting makes me cringe and I'm terrified that she's going to snot all over me as she shoves me and plonks down next to me on the couch, pulling her now stripy sock covered feet up and wedges them against my jean covered thigh. I want to be sick... "Come on, dear boy! Eat up whilst it's piping and all that! My father is a Laird." She says, grinning.

"Um… what?" I ask, confused at the sudden change in conversation and trying frantically to think of the fact that her room is slightly grubby and that means her kitchen must be too… ugh.

"You know, a clan chief in Scotland? That's him on the left," she says pointing to a large, silver framed picture of a wild red haired and bearded man in a kilt. "Edward! Come on, tuck in! I insist!" she says before she takes a massive bite of her sandwich as her conversation lurches from subject to subject showing me exactly what a bacon sandwich turns into when it's exposed to masses of chewing teeth and saliva.

For the next two hours, Clarissa regales me with every detail of her life and asks me very little regarding myself, which I'm pleased about. I don't know her yet and I don't want her gossiping about me behind my back. I still like to keep myself to myself and frankly, she's so funny and loud, with her snorting, braying laugh, that, surprisingly, I'm enjoying myself and don't want to interrupt her. My first impression of her was wrong and she really is very nice and entertaining.

Suddenly aware that I'm tired and really want to settle myself into the fridge otherwise known as my rooms, I drain my glass of the last dregs of the cheap wine and place it back onto the chipped, scratched coffee table.

"Well," I say, standing up and rubbing my hands on my thighs when I see that it's getting late, "Thank you for the unexpected drinks and impromptu supper, Clarissa. It was lovely to meet you and I've really had a very nice time, but I need to go and finish unpacking now," I lie.

"Oh." She says, frowning. "Do you have to go already? It isn't even midnight yet! Don't you like late nights? That's a pity, I'm a bit of a night owl myself!" she guffaws. I have no idea why she thinks that's in the slightest bit entertaining, but she does. "Um… bear with for one tickety boo, Edward." She says. "Um… did you know that there's a Fresher's Party in the pub on the corner tomorrow night, do you want to come with me?" she asks, looking hopeful. No. I really don't. "I always feel a little strange walking in on my own," she says, pushing her glasses up her pointy nose. "People sometimes stare at me, I don't know why, but they do, and I would rather go with someone who looks like people wouldn't stare at them in a negative way. I think it's my height. I'm taller than most boys, let alone girls and it gets a little daunting sometimes. I don't like the way some people laugh at me. I can't help it that I wear a size eleven shoe so can never find anything pretty to wear. They look like boats compared to most girls feet, but there's nothing I can do. Will you? Will you come with me, please? Please?" she asks, sounding quite desperate.

I feel sad for her. She's really nice and very funny but unfortunately, I don't think she's intentionally entertaining most of the time and I fear that because of this, more often than not she's laughed at instead of with.

"Okay." I say, shrugging again, "Why not? It might be fun. I'll knock for you at 7:00 pm, okay?"

"Super!" she says, clapping her hands in delight. "I'll dress up, dear boy! I won't embarrass you! I have an outfit that will be perfect! How jolly we'll be together! Now, just bear with whilst I find my keys. Do you want to know what I'll be wearing? No! No, you naughty boy, I shall just make you wait with baited anticipation!"

Oh dear…

Smiling, I nod before I see myself out, almost running to get away from her effervescent enthusiasm for everything. Leaving her warm, snug rooms, I enter my frigid, far less homely space once again.

After washing myself under the limpest, weakest and most pathetic trickle of water that is erroneously called a shower, I yank on a pair of fleece sleep pants, a long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of rugby socks because I'm freezing. Even after fiddling with the thermostat and having the heating blasting out all day, my rooms are more like a mortuary than ever and as a final resort, I tug on my fingerless rugby gloves and climb into bed, carrying two hot water bottles with me.

…

I sleep well in my new bed and wake up to loud banging that rouses me grudgingly in my darkened room. Yawning loudly, I stumble to the door and open it to see a bouncing Clarissa and two workmen.

"What's the matter?" I ask rubbing my eyes and squinting to see who is standing next to her as I try to avoid the fact that she's wearing a short t-shirt nightdress and a pair of mid-calf length Ugg boots, and as she moves, so do her unfettered breasts. It isn't a pleasant sight.

"They've come to fix your heating, my lovely!" she yells, almost deafening us all. "Apparently, ducky, they should have been here before you even arrived! I went downstairs last night and complained. It's disgusting that it wasn't fixed earlier! Ta da ta! Clarissa to the rescue!" she chortles.

"Oh, okay… thank you… that was kind of you… but you didn't need to bother…" I mumble, holding the door open for the engineers to come in. "Please, Gentlemen," I say, "Follow me." As the two overall covered men stride into my flat and head towards the kitchen, Clarissa rushes in behind them. "Do come in, Clarissa," I say, sarcastically as she almost takes me off my feet.

"Thank you, dear boy. Nice jammies, Cullen! Nice to see that you managed to keep snug and cosy. But that's an odd place to keep your remote control. I keep mine on my desk; did you tuck it into your pants to keep you warm? Mind you don't get burned," she says, scowling at the bulge in the front of them. I don't think she's being sarcastic either… saints preserve us.

"Thanks…" I mutter not knowing what else to say to her as she trips around the room looking at everything.

"Tea?" she asks.

"No. The workmen are in there, you can't make tea." I say, flatly, and somewhat rudely, wishing they would all bugger off and leave me in peace.

"No, dear heart," she says, "I have a flask!" she says, waving a bright red thermos and two plastic beakers in front of my face. "Bear with… bear with… bear with…" she says, brightly.

She would, wouldn't she? But I have no idea where she had those hidden because I didn't see her carrying anything when she arrived. Shit. I hope she didn't have them down her knickers…

Digging about in a bag, she pulls out a packet of broken digestive biscuits and for the next twenty minutes, we sit together sipping the much too strong tea and dunking biscuits in our multi-coloured cups.

"Is that your baby? Or is it your brother or sister? It looks like you, anyway. Who is it?" she asks, pointing to Mistral's picture.

What the fuck?

"It's very plain in here, Edward. Would you like me to come shopping with you and buy something jolly to cheer it up? It looks like a show home! No colour? Why not? I have a crocheted throw that you can have for your bed. I hate white bed linen, it shows all sorts of horrid stains! You don't have _'lady days'_ though, _'flo'_ doesn't come visiting so you don't have to worry about any of that stuff so I suppose it doesn't matter unless you have a lady friend stay over at that time of the month, does it? I have some silk carnations. They're bright blue, perfect for a boy, you could put them on the table in a vase. Shall I go and get them? Oooh! And I have some nice plastic fruit and a string of plastic onions! I'll just pop next door, I won't be long! It will be such fun helping you with your interior decorating!"

Saints preserve us…

Shit.

"No, thank you, Clarissa," I say, firmly, "I like things to be kept simple and no, he isn't my baby, he's my Godson," I finish proudly.

"Really? Are you sure he isn't yours? He looks like you, that's all." She says.

Fuck it.

"He does not!" I say, horrified because I'd considered this before, obviously, but hearing someone else saying it out loud makes it even more real and drops of icy dread trickle into my stomach. Even though we'd always used condoms when we had sex, they aren't one hundred percent fool proof and we'd still been fucking when she got pregnant. "He's the image of his father with his mother's hair colour." I say firmly not sure who I was trying to convince most.

"Oh well, that's okay then, isn't it?" she asks as she shoves an entire biscuit into her mouth. "It's just because you both have ginger hair."

"His mother has ginger… ugh! I mean, his mother has RED, hair!" I say, irritated to the point of fury now. "He isn't mine, Clarissa, okay?"

When I finally manage to get rid of them all, I get back into bed with porridge and a book and stay there all day with the feeling of unease about Mistral's parentage building more with every passing hour. Although deep down I know he is the image of Riley, his colouring is mine as well and I know that realistically there is a chance that he's mine.

Unable to shake the thought out of my head, I can't rest until I speak to Jace. I ring her and we chat for about this and that for about half an hour before I broach the uncomfortable subject. She agreed that Mistral's hair colour was a surprise considering how dark Riley's hair is but there is no doubt that he is the baby's father. She went over her dates and the time that she got pregnant was when I was away with Eaton on a rowing trip for two weeks. Riley didn't care which one of us was his father, he said it didn't affect the way he felt for Mistral and that he was his son regardless. Jace, however was still unsure and needed to know for certain, so they had DNA tests done to put her mind at rest and it came back as a ninety nine percent match to Riley.

Thank fuck. However wonderful Mistral is, I don't want children and this just confirmed that decision to me even more firmly. I don't want a family. The Cullen name will die with me and the fortune will all be bequeathed to various charities.

I wake up with a start when my phone rings and for a few moments I look around me, confused because I don't know where I am.

"Hello?" I grumble and my voice sounds odd even to my own ears.

"Edward? Are you alright?" Katy asks. "Are you sick? You sound very strange. What's the matter?"

"Hello, Katy!" I say, brightly, "God! Thank God! It's good to hear your voice!"

"You too, love, is everything alright?"

"Yes, I was sleeping, I've had a lazy day and you woke me up," I say.

"We just wanted to check that you are okay, Anna and Carlisle are both missing you very much, and we wanted to say hello and good luck for Monday."

We chat for a little while before I excuse myself as my stomach rumbles. After eating beans on toast, I have a shower and shave. The flat is almost too hot now that the heating has been repaired, but the shower is still little more than a spit and I write myself a note and stick it on the fridge to remind myself to get it looked at.

Dressing in a pair of faded Levi's, I yank on a black t-shirt and ruffle my hair, leaving it dishevelled before I shove my wallet and phone in my pockets. I put my watch on and dab a bit of aftershave on my neck.

As I open my door, buckling my belt, I smile when I see that Clarissa is waiting for me, hopping up and down like a rabbit on acid. She looks ridiculously brilliant, dressed in so many patterns and layers that I can't quite work out what she's wearing and where she begins and her clothing ends. She looks as if she's draped in tunics, blouses and dresses in red, orange, purple, pink and of course, her beloved brown with splashes of yellow, lime green and turquoise. She's a veritable kaleidoscope in human and nylon form.

"Dear boy!" she giggles, "We're going to be late! Come on, I want to show off my new outfit, isn't it gorgeous? I was up almost all night making it!" she squeals, linking her arm through mine. "Mmmm… you do smell nice, Edward! What is it? Aftershave? Daddy always says aftershave is for gay boys but I don't think so, do you? No. Of course that's not true! Silly Daddy! Daddy is terribly old fashioned and frightfully stuck in his ways but that's what he says!"

"So your father never wears aftershave?" I ask, as he we walk across the swarming square and along the busy pavements.

"Gosh no! He uses carbolic soap to wash because he is always so grubby from working with animals. Daddy always smells of silage or horse poo as does Granville, my brother! He says that's how a real man smells. It can be a little off putting at supper time but most of the time I don't even notice it. I took a friend home from school once when I was little and she told everyone that my home smelled badly and the rest of my time at primary school was quite horrid really. My nickname in the village is still _'stinky!'_ I used to cry about it, but I think it's quite funny now!"

Her voice is falsely upbeat and as I look at her flushed face, I know she's lying, it still upsets her.

"Come on," I say, "Let's have a drink or five!" I try to lighten the mood as I squeeze her damp hand firmly. As we push our way into the hugely crowded pub, I grab her wrist, and pull her along behind me firmly. I head for the bar where I buy us a drink.

The place is absolutely heavy and very loud, and as I look around, I see that Annabelle was right. There are some very 'obvious' girls hanging on every word of tall, muscular looking guys. The group seems to be split into two very distinct groups. Some who are vulgar and obvious and those who look like Clarissa. I'm not interested in any of them. Nerdy, bookish looking males are on the periphery of every crowd, reading newspapers despite the throbbing music or trying to look as if they're part of the conversation, which they very obviously aren't.

Apparently I sip my lager too slowly for Clarissa's liking and after knocking back a double gin and tonic, crunching her ice loudly to get the last dregs of alcohol, she quickly orders another round. She adds two packets of pork scratching's and some salt and vinegar crisps to her order.

For the next few hours, we chat to various people who wander by us and enquire what we are studying, and I find a couple of others who are doing the same course as me. I would have liked to talk to them more but Clarissa's loud, and horrifically off key rendition of _"O__n __Ilkley Moore Bar T'at_," and "_The Banks of Loch Lomond," _somewhat renders conversation impossible. When she starts to sing "_Bohemian Rhapsody,"_ I start to knock my lager back more quickly.

A couple of girls in the corner of the pub has taken their knickers off and have them on the top of their heads with their hair pulled through the leg holes. I don't even wonder why by this point, I'm too pissed.

Several students stand at the bar trying to 'drink' vodka through their eyes and three others are attempting to snort it up their noses. All of them look in agony and chuckling, I order another round for Clarissa and myself.

After managing to wriggle free of some tarty octopus armed girl who smells of cheap chemicals and who has glued herself to my side with her fingers itching down my abdomen, heading for my crotch, I head to the toilets.

Returning, I roll my eyes and sigh deeply at the sight before me. Somehow, in the brief moments I've left her unattended, Clarissa has got herself involved in a drinking contest. The small glasses of God only knows what are coming thick and fast and vaguely aware that I haven't eaten enough today, I decide to slow things down as my vision starts to look a little off kilter. There are five pints lined up on the table before me and instead, I ask the barmaid for a glass of tap water.

Every time Clarissa knocks back her shot of tequila, she has to remove an item of clothing. Thankfully for her, she has copious layers on, and the four people she's playing with are half naked whilst she is down to a puce coloured frilly blouse with odd coloured spots.

"Come on, Cullen!" she bellows, "Join in, dear boy, this is such fun!"

Shit.

After she licks the salt off the back of her hand, she knocks back another shot glass of clear liquid as she starts to unbutton her top. The chunk of lemon she's holding in her hand hits the floor before she disappears, slowly sliding backwards over the back of a large leather sofa, with her skirts up around her waist. Her big, orange knickers are showing and I try not to laugh at the lime green knee length pop socks she has on with her flat gold sandals.

"Edward!" a booming voice yells out as he grabs my underpants that are now sitting above the waistband of my jeans, and yanks them painfully upwards giving me a wedgie. "Your friend has keeled over! You need to take her place! She will have to pay the forfeit for losing otherwise and I don't feel right making an unconscious girl do that! Come on, drink and strip!"

I have no idea who the semi naked man before me is, but it doesn't matter to my hop addled brain, and laughing, I agree, slurringly, to compete on Clarissa's behalf and to fight for her honour.

This gallant gesture is a foolish one as it turns out. I'm an utter lightweight when it comes to alcohol and several shots of the acidic, bitter liquid later, I feel like I'm about to puke as my beans, toast and lager fight with my swallowing mechanism to reappear.

The next thing I know, I'm running around the quad of the university, bare foot, trying to win a race as blurred faces flash passed me and loud voices yell me on. I know I'm really asleep and am dreaming. My toes hurt as I land on sharp pebbles and I decide that the beans must have been off and that I'm having a reaction to them. As I'm declared the winner, I'm vaguely aware that I'm being carried around on shoulders in the light of the streetlamps and briefly think that I might not be dreaming after all. As I wonder where Clarissa is in the throng of clamouring bodies, a hand grabs my cock as I'm lifted higher and all thoughts of the funny, slightly strange girl, leaves my mind as I respond to the firm touch.

…..

I've never been really, really drunk before and I've never had a hangover.

Well, I have now… despite drinking wine, beer and cider with Jasper and Emmett over the years, as well as having the occasional spliff, I've never felt this ill and every time I move, my stomach rolls alarmingly. I feel like I've been on a roller coaster or am suffering from car sickness.

"Oh fuck…" I groan as I force my head up off the pillow and yank my aching eyes to open and look around me.

The room stinks of synthetic roses and stale alcohol. I'm lying on my stomach, that much is for sure, but I haven't a clue about anything else. I'm hot and sweaty and my hair is stuck to the side of my face as I roll onto my side and swipe the back of my hand across my damp forehead. I feel the vomit race up to the back of my throat at the horrible scent.

My room smells of bitter oranges—bergamot—and the oil cost me a lot of money so I have no idea what this awful stench is. Confused, I push myself up on my elbow, and squint not having a clue where I am. There is stuff everywhere and I feel like I'm in the middle of a nightmare, one that's both untidy and smells horrid. Lying back down, I try to close my eyes when I become aware of a terrible noise. The sound in the semi dark room is so loud that I wonder briefly if someone is using a chainsaw outside the window. I can't see properly because there's a grubby pair of semi hung curtains obscuring the view. The noise is so horrific that there has so be some serious arboretum work going on out there for this level of din to be reverberating around the room.

There isn't. Sadly.

As I roll over, the sight of Clarissa lying flat on her back stops me dead in my tracks. She's unattractively illuminated by a yellowy cream, dim lamp on her bedside table. She's wearing nothing but a saggy grey ill-fitting bra, shocking green socks that are rolled down loosely around her ankles and her huge orange knickers. These sit just below the bra and her belly looks somewhat like uncooked bread dough as it shudders in time with her breathing. Her hand snakes down and quickly scratches her crotch before she puts her thumb in her mouth. This is the last straw for my tender stomach and it almost forces the sick to make an appearance across her and her fucking knickers. The unbelievable truth is that the noise is coming from her open, drooling mouth and I've never seen anything quite like the sight before me. I've never heard any human being make such a sound before either. Yuk. The trickle of dribble has dried to a disgusting creamy white trail all the way down the side of her cheek and I clasp my hand over my mouth because right now all I want to do is puke.

"_Please tell me I didn't fuck her… please… please… she's very nice… but Christ… if you are up there listening to this one sided conversation… please say I didn't fuck her… please… I'll do anything you want… just make this go away…"_ I murmur as I yank the scratchy, nylon quilt and shocking orange candlewick bedspread off my body in the greenhouse like temperature of the cramped room. I know what candlewick is because I had a stained cream bedspread just like this on my broken bed when I resided with my aunt.

Flopping back against the foam pillow, I shiver as a chill creeps over my skin now that I've removed the covers from my body. As I look down, I groan as I fling my arm across my eyes.

Fuck it.

I'm bare bollock naked… and I don't have morning wood… thank Christ.

"Morning, big boy…" a groggy sounding voice grumbles out beside me as her fingers trail intimately down my bicep. This shocks me so much that I sit bolt upright. I hope she didn't hear my mutterings; I really don't want to hurt her feelings but the thought of her touching me sexually is too much and I shimmy across the bed to the point that I almost fall over the edge. "You need to cover yourself up… its cold in here…" she grumbles as she rolls over to look at me.

"Shit…" I groan as I flop backwards onto the mattress. "I didn't know you were awake. Sorry. I shouldn't have spoken out loud."

"Yes… I like having you here, you smell so nice… I keep having to have a little sniff of your neck… I've never been near a man who smells so good before… you have a pretty face… pretty hair and smell pretty too…" she mutters.

Bugger it. I'm in trouble now. You never shit where you eat and I promised Anna, Katy and Carlisle faithfully that I would behave myself. I'm going to be whipped soundly for this indiscretion. Oddly, the thought of disappointing Carlisle worries me the most. He'd adapted his list for me and I've betrayed his trust already.

Ugh.

"Um…" I begin, trying to look everywhere but Clarissa's boob that's now trying to escape from the sight of her ancient bra. "Did we um… did we… er… um… I mean…" I stammer.

"What's the matter?" she asks, pulling away from me and scowling.

"Well…" I begin. "I don't quite know how to say this… um… I mean… I don't want you to think… um… you're a really… um… lovely…"

"I know I'm good looking, Cullen," she says, "What are you asking?"

"Well…" I continue, lost for words for the first time in my life. I never worried whether I offended Jacinta. I used to tell her how it was, but this is different and I don't really know why.

"Spit it out, Edward," she says.

"Um…"

"Oh for Christ's sake, man!" she says, sounding exasperated as she nudges me hard. "Are you asking if we shagged?" she says, sitting up cross legged on the bed. Her panty liner is poking out of the leg of her orange nylon, brown lace trimmed underwear. She doesn't seem to notice what's happening, so I really try to ignore it too. So far I like her and don't want to make her feel any more uncomfortable than I already am! Though, from what I've seen of her up to now, I doubt she would be embarrassed at all.

"Is that what you want to know?" she asks, prodding my naked upper thigh painfully.

"Yes," I say, simply. "And that fucking hurt!"

"Stop being a wimp. No, darling, we didn't have sexual intercourse. I couldn't handle your ding-a-ling, I promise you! Torquil's tinkle is nothing like yours! Yours looks like the trunk of an elephant, sweetie!"

Tinkle? Ding-a-ling?

Fuck.

What is this, prep school?

"Did I tell you that my Daddy runs a stud farm? He breeds horses for the royal family and I've watched horses with their cocks hanging down almost to the ground all my life and have never batted an eye lid, but I have to say, Cullen, your dick is the biggest I've ever seen! You could give a donkey a run for its money! Actually, I might call you _'Neddy'_ from now on! That's a shortened version of _'Edward'_ and a name associated with donkeys. What do you think? I like it!"

"I think, Clarissa," I say, climbing out of bed, ignoring the fact that my cock is swinging limply between my legs for the first morning since I was about eleven, "If you call me that," I grunt as I struggle into my jeans and shove my dick down the leg carefully so that I don't trap it in the zip, "I won't ever talk to you again. My name is _E.D.W.A.R.D. _Not Neddy, not Delaney's Donkey, not Tinkle or Ding-a-ling or any other fucking pet name. My name is Edward Anthony Cullen. Or, Edward to you. Edward. EDWARD. Get it?"

"Okay, I'll call you 'Ned' instead. I used to have a cocker spaniel called 'Ned.' He was lovely. I'll call you that, okay?" she says sounding totally unperturbed by my grumpy demeanour. "I want to know why isn't your cock hard in the morning? Is there something wrong with it?" she asks, pointing at my crotch. "My Tarquil's penis is always hard. But, bless him, it isn't much bigger than my index finger and feels like a pencil when I masturbate him," she says, pointing her finger at me and grinning. "So I suppose it doesn't take as much effort for him to have a permanent hard on. Do you get lightheaded when you're aroused, Ned? Are you gay? Is that why I don't stimulate you? I don't mind if you are, there's quite a lot of homosexual's in my family and most people just pretend it isn't happening. I don't care. I had lots of fun with the girlies in my dorms! Because I'm so tall they used to dress me up as a boy and shove a courgette down my pants. It was jolly good fun, but I found out I preferred boys when I met my lovely man. Tarquil says I only have to waft into a room in my sexy lingerie and he wants to roger me. Are you in a bad mood because we didn't do anything naughty when you were drunk? Is that what's wrong or are you gay, darling? Maybe daddy is right about the aftershave… Torquil doesn't wear it either… don't you find this underwear arousing? These are Torqi's favourite pants. He sometimes wears them too. They actually fit him better than they do me. Apart from when his cock juts out the front. They look HILARIOUS then!" she guffaws.

I want to be sick.

"No. Your father is most certainly not right about that." I state, sighing as I turn to look at her. "And no, I'm not gay." I'm not cruel enough to tell her that even my balls had crawled up inside my body at the sight of the stained piece of cotton wadding that's now moved downwards and is stuck to her upper thigh.

"Who's Tarquil or Torqi or whatever you call him?" I ask, attempting to change the subject.

"My lover," she says, grinning, "He's working with Daddy just now on the estate and he'll be down to visit me at the weekend. You should come and have a little drinky poo with us! You will love him! He doesn't look like you, obviously. He's a lot shorter than me and is balding and has a big belly that hangs over his kilt, in fact," she muses pursing her lips, "he looks a little bit like Moley from Wind in the Willows but he's my first boyfriend and I like him just the way he is."

"I'm going back to London on Friday evening so I won't be here. In fact, I don't plan on being here most weekends…" I say to her, "I have appointments and commitments you see… oh… shit… I need to go and lay down in my own room…"

"Oh, you do look sick, Edward, will you be okay? Do you want me to come into your rooms with you? I could fry you an egg? Or would you like a nice thick sausage?" she asks.

"Did you undress me last night?" I ask her, scowling, ignoring her stupid questions because I'm very obviously not okay and the thought of smelling fried food, let alone eating it, is enough to make me hurl.

"No, Neddy, you stripped quite happily all on your own in the pub! You made quite a show of it too, you know? The way you wiggled your bum as you pulled your underpants down was really quite lovely and rendered the entire pub silent! I need some lessons for next weekend, Tarquil love's it when I strip for him. Have you stripped for a living? You certainly know how to wave that thing around! I've never known a room fall silent like that before, but then, I don't think many would have seen a thing quite that big before. Do you ever trip up? Does it get knotted up in your legs?" She says pointing in the direction of my crotch. "Some of those girls were positively salivating as your cock played 'ding dong' against your thighs as you ran! It was a most stimulating sight and I think some of the boys were suitably enamoured by you're _ e_too!" she chuckles as she drawls out and uses the worst French accent I've ever heard.

Kill me now.

"Do you want some breakfast, darling boy? You must be hungry," she says, "You didn't stop throwing up until an hour ago. They say you polished off an entire bottle of tequila on top of the lager you'd already drunk. You must be feeling fragile, Edward, I could whip you up a raw egg and some Tobassco sauce with lashings of lovely vodka. Do you think that would help?"

Fuck.

Well that explains it all then. No wonder I feel so bad, I've never drunk more than three cans of cider at the same time, and added to that, I can't believe I flashed my wares to the entire campus—I've only been here for two fucking days and I've made a show of myself already!

"No, I don't want anything to bloody eat," I say, "_And if you ever get involved in a fucking drinking game again, you are on your own! Get it?"_ I hiss out as I pick up my vomit splattered t-shirt and ruined trainers feeling the bile rising once more at the acrid smell emitting from them. "AND, Clarissa, don't fucking well call me '_Neddy'_ again!" I finish as I slam the door loudly behind.

It's only when I fiddle in my pockets to find my keys that I realise I've left everything in Clarissa's flat and I have to go back and knock on her door.

Grinning at me, she hands me my wallet, keys and phone, pats me on the top of my head, shimmies her boob back inside her bra, turns and shuts the door in my face.

After I've had a hot drizzle—AKA a shower—I spend the whole of Sunday in bed ignoring phone calls and text messages, as well as Clarissa's repeated interruptions as she bangs on my door with the offer of 'nutritious and scrumptious food.' In between heaving up nothing but clear liquid, I drink enough water to keep a camel happy and as I gulp down a sachet of a rehydrating medicine from the first aid box that Charlotte had put together and that even, somewhat alarmingly, had condoms and spermicidal jelly in it, I swear that I will never touch alcohol again.

Forcing myself to eat a bowl of cornflakes before I pass out again, I sleep a deep, dreamless sleep until I wake up on Monday morning feeling, and looking, like shit.

After I shower and shave, I dress in a pair of black jeans, a black t-shirt and pull a black and white checked warm shirt on over the top, leaving it undone. I shove the books I've been told to bring with me on my first day into my leather messenger bag along with a folder of paper and a bundle of pens in different colours, as well as my wallet, iPod and mobile phone.

Walking across the quadrangle as I head towards the lecture hall, I'm aware of the fact that people are staring at me wherever I go.

Terrific.

It would seem that my cock and balls are a legend in their own right alright in Cambridge and whereas I wanted to just blend in and study during my stay here, it would seem that this is not to be.

The cafeteria is next to the hall and I grab two bottles of still water, a couple of slices of toast and a double espresso before I take my place in the centre of the front row and start to lay all my accoutrements out in front of me, excitedly, despite the fact that my hands are shaking due to dehydration and the remnants of the evil worm.

My first lecture is conducted by Professor Henrietta Cavello. For some reason, I wasn't expecting a woman but she is utterly mesmerising as she waxes lyrical about her speciality—criminal law and all its vagaries.

Looking at her, it's almost impossible to believe that she's a lecturer in law. She's so well groomed that she looks as if she should work in the fashion industry and her brusque professionalism reminds me of the character in the girlie film Rose forced me to go and see with her, _'The Devil Wears Dior'_ or some such rubbish. She's willowy and tall, yet curvy with olive skin and jet black hair and frankly she looks amazing. As she moves around, writing on a large board and using a stick to point at her power point display, her breasts move. They're large and round but they are most definitely not fake. Although the monster stirs in my jeans, I manage to ignore it and concentrate, hanging on her every, richly enunciated word. I'm so lost in what she's teaching me, and despite the fact that I know I'm surrounded by lots of other people, it might as well be just the two of us. The next three hours fly by and my hand aches from the copious amounts of notes that I've taken.

As I leave the hall, just as I walk through the double doors, a hand grabs hold of the strap of my bag and yanks me to the side, almost pulling me off my feet in the process.

"What in the name of fuck are you doing?" I gasp out and wrench away.

Clarissa.

"Come on, Neddy, let me buy you a nice beef stew and lard dumplings for luncheon! We need to line that fragile tum tum of yours! When you left the warmth of my bed yesterday morning, did you puke much more?"

I really wished she would keep her bloody voice down, but I know she means well despite the fact that half the hallway turns to look at us. "Okay," I sigh, resignedly, as she links arms with mine. "Lead the way."

"Well, well, well, Mr Cullen," the deliciously accented voice says behind me, "I had wanted a quick word with you, but I will allow you and your girlfriend to enjoy your lunch together. Come to my office of the second floor at 1.30 pm promptly. I would like to discuss one or two things with you in private." She says brusquely before she turns on her skyscraper heels and walks quickly away.

Bugger. However inappropriate it may sound, I really quite liked the idea of being on my own with the lovely Henrietta.

"Come on," I sigh, putting my arm around Clarissa's shoulder, squeezing her firmly as I do so. "Let's go and eat, I'm starving and I can hear your bloody stomach rumbling from here."

"Oooh!" Clarissa squeals, "I wonder what '_the Black Widow'_ wants you for, Neddy?" she asks as she skips alarmingly beside me, hopping about but sounding like a clumping shire horse. "How simply hilarious that she thinks I'm your girlfriend! Darling boy! Why would you want to be my boyfriend?"

"Wait. What?" I say, stopping to look at her in the queue, "What did you call her?"

"Black Widow, Edward. Everyone calls her that! She's well known for picking a favoured student, usually the best looking or cleverest from each new year's arrivals and fucking them senseless. She then drops them when the new consignment of new boys, or girls, arrive!" she sniggers. "You're both pretty and very clever from what I've heard, so it looks like you've been singled out as her playmate of choice this term!"

"Really?" I ask, surprised. I wouldn't have thought this was a professional manner but then after my relationship with Riley happened whilst I was at school, and I wasn't the first, or the last, I don't know why I find it unusual. "I'm both what?" I ask, not paying attention to her as my eyes scan the room until the fix on my lecturer. Oddly, I suddenly feel ravenous and laden my tray with soup and bread, beef stew with mashed potatoes and spotted dick and custard. "And it would be an honour," I say, smiling at her as I pay for my food, "If people thought I was good enough to be your boyfriend. Torquil is a lucky, lucky man."

Her grin lights up the room and my heart clenches at how a simple sentence has made her day. Looking the way I do, people judge me as being too pretty to be clever. Clarissa is seen as too unattractive to be worthy of being anyone's girlfriend. Her simple sentence really makes me think in a different way. I'm cold and calculating and incapable of feeling anything for anyone… well… except for Mistral, Anna and now it would seem, Clarissa as well. At this rate I'll be turning into an emotional sap and I decide there and then that I won't allow anyone to creep under my skin again. I can't risk being hurt when they leave me.

For the next hour, I tuck into my food and barely listen to Clarissa as she witters away enthusiastically about her first lecture because I keep wondering exactly what the lovely Henrietta wants to talk to me about. Several times, people walk over to our table and introduce themselves, saying that they'd been privy to me in all my glory on Saturday night and after the first bloom of embarrassment, I give up feeling silly and just smile at their comments.

Waving goodbye to Clarissa, I run up the aged stairs as I head towards my professors study with a thundering heart. I grin as I catch sight of my flushed refection in one of the windows. Knocking lightly on the door, I almost wrench the handle off as soon as she tells me to enter.

"Ah, Mr Cullen," she says, as she turns in her chair and smiles at me. Her legs are crossed and I look her up and down. Her pencil skirt has a deep split up the centre and I can't resist staring at her fishnet stocking covered calves. "Thank you for being so prompt. I like good time keeping… in fact… in insist on it as a mark of respect and recognition of my authority. Now, please, do come in and sit down. Would you like some tea?"

"Okay… um… no, no tea, thank you. I have to get to my next lecture, but how can I help you, Professor?" I ask, putting my bag on the floor and sitting down opposite her.

"Your lecture doesn't begin for another thirty minutes, I've seen your schedule. Now, I want to talk to you. You're a very interesting young man. You see, your reputation precedes you all the way from Windsor, MISTER Cullen…" she drawls as she slides a silver fountain pen backwards and forwards between her thumb and middle finger. "I was curious to talk to you in private…"

Fuck.

Does she know about Riley and me? Bollocks. Does she know that I'm now a trainee submissive? How does she know? Fuck… does she know that I used to be in huge demand blow job wise at Eton?

"I don't know what you mean," I say, quietly as my hands begin to sweat and I look down frantically scanning my brain to find a reason for her questions.

"Come, come, Edward," she laughs, "Let's not be coy! I can call you, Edward, can't I?" she asks.

"Um… yes… you can, but…" I say, feeling uncomfortable. "Um… I need to get to my next lecture… I have to go…" I splutter, desperate to get out of her room. I don't want my past following me to this faction of my life.

"No. Not yet. I have things to say. Now, as I was saying, your reputation has rushed ahead of you. I was told you were a shining star in all your classes at Eton and that great things are predicted for you in your chosen career. Words like _'genius,' 'prodigy,_' and '_gifted,_' were bandied about in the staff room this morning. I just want to let you know that if you struggle with anything, at any time, please feel free to come here and ask me for help. I would like you to place yourself in my more than capable hands. Okay?"

This is getting odder and odder by the second…

"Um… yes…" I say, "Thank you…"

"I do want to know one thing, though, Edward. May I ask you a personal question about the female who was with you earlier? Is she your girlfriend? She doesn't seem to be your type. Who is she? What is she to you?" she demands.

Feeling affronted by her assessment of Clarissa, I flare my nostrils but restrain the urge to tell her to sod off and that it's none of her business. "Why does it matter who she is? And what exactly is my type? How do you know what my type is, if I have a type, Professor?" I ask, keeping it as polite as possible.

"Well, I don't suppose it is any of my business what your type, Edward Anthony Cullen, is it? Never mind. Okay, you may go now. I have nothing else to say to you and no more time to waste on such trivialities. I have things to do so please leave my room. I have no interest in continuing this conversation. Leave. Immediately. Goodbye." She says, almost sharply.

What the hell? She knows my full name off by heart.

"Okay," I sigh, "I'll go..." Leaving her room, I scowl not knowing what the hell has just happened. She seems to know a lot about me and maybe Clarissa is right. Maybe she is looking for a fuck for the term. Well, she picked on the wrong person, didn't she? I have no interest in fucking up my degree course and I certainly have no intention of messing up my submissive training either. Although deep down I know that it won't be something I want to do always, and more importantly, I won't have the time to do it long term, but for now, it serves me well.

The afternoon's lecture is every bit as interesting as the morning's one was, only this time our professor is dressed like a reject from the _'Flower Power'_ days and smells of patchouli as he wafts fragrantly around the room. He reminds me of my aunt and I just hope that the small flask he keeps imbibing from doesn't contain gin and although he doesn't hold the rooms concentration the same way as the previous lecturer did, but it's fascinating nonetheless.

Returning to my rooms, I sit at my computer and type up the reams of notes I've taken during both my classes. I have over fifty emails to read and flicking through them quickly, I sigh because most are from Katy and Carlisle and irritation threatens to overtake me that they are interrupting what has been a wonderful day.

Remembering my promise to Anna, I ring her and spend half an hour regaling her tales from my last three days as I cook some pasta. She laughs when I tell her about Clarissa but says I need to be careful not to give her the wrong idea. Carlisle is less happy with me when I ring him and tell him about my adventures involving running naked around the university precinct, imbibing excesses amounts of tequila and waking up in bed with Clarissa. He tells me that I've been remiss in my submissive duties by not contacting them as regularly as I'd promised to do and by putting myself in potential danger. He tells me that I will be punished for my tardiness on Friday evening. I get an erection at the thought of what that punishment might involve and he chuckles when I tell him so. We chat for ten minutes and I tell him about my odd encounter with my glamorous lecturer in her office.

"What's her name?" he asks and when I tell him he goes quiet. "Well, who you are and aren't friends with is none of her business, Edward," he says, "Just be careful. Keep out of her way as much as you can and don't get yourself in any more silly situations with girls, or boys, in nylon underwear, okay?"

Bagging up my laundry because the new cleaning lady is starting the next day, I have an early night after I finish an essay on ethics and sleep fitfully. I dream about the possibilities of fighting the corner of someone you know who's guilty and being able to reconcile that. Right from wrong and all that jazz. Strangely, for the first time in many years, my father's face keeps flashing before my eyes and more than once, I awake with cold sweat running down my body.

….

The week flies by and every lecturer is more exciting to me than the last. It's very obvious that I've made the right decision and I'm happier than I've ever been before educationally. Jasper and I make plans for him to visit me here in Cambridge in a couple of weeks and he says he will bring Rose and Emmett with him. Laughing, I tell him about my new friend and tell him that he isn't to let her anywhere near his marijuana stash!

I'm absolutely knackered because I spend every night reading up on cases that have been mentioned during that day's lecture. I don't go to sleep until after 2.00 am most mornings and I'm knackered. I'm becoming obsessed with this course and can't get enough of the details that my massive amounts of books and Google have to offer.

Clarissa drifts in and out of my life and when we visit the supermarket together, she immediately rushes to the out of date and special offer section because she says she doesn't like to waste money as she stuffs her basket with cakes, biscuits and bottles of cordial. She thinks I'm strange because I buy meat, fish, fruit and vegetables. And lots of cleaning products. She doesn't even have soap powder in her bag and instantly, my OCD gene twitches. She tries to persuade me to buy a can of lavender air freshener to add to my household purchases but I refuse because frankly I don't want my lodgings smelling like hers do.

When I return to my rooms on the Tuesday evening, I can't believe what she's done. She persuaded the cleaning lady to let her in and she's stuck air fresheners in the kitchen and bathroom and even crocheted a bright pink and orange trim onto some of my bath towels to _'brighten up my life.'_

Sigh.

I sit and unpick the thick woollen edging, trying not to laugh as I do so because although she means well, there's no way I could live with those!

She has a new friend, Alina Nilifur, hanging around with her now. They're both studying economics and spend an interminable amount of time discussing the benefits of investing in pig feed over hay in developing countries. I have absolutely no idea WHY this is so important and why they need to talk about it for fucking hours on end but in one way it helps me to zone out and finish essays in lightning speed as the three of us sit huddled around a table in the library.

Clarissa finds the fact that Alina is a lesbian absolutely fascinating and asks her completely inappropriate questions in the cafeteria at lunch times. She isn't quiet and her voice and laugh are ear splitting as she continues yakking about what a woman's 'front bottom' tastes like, are 'titties' soft to nuzzle and how can she possibly have sexual relations with another woman when they don't have a penis between them!

For someone so intelligent she really is as thick as shit at times. I guess the old adage is true. You can have all the intelligence in the world but not one drop of common sense. We are certainly the centre of attention when we have these discussions. Half the lunchroom hangs on our every word and our table is becoming more and more crowded with every passing day. I don't want to stand out from the crowd and I most certainly don't want to become popular and part of the 'in' crowd. I'm here to study and for nothing else.

"Do you understand how this could work, Neddy?" Clarissa asks me. "Do they just kiss and grope or can they actually manage to have sex?"

"Jesus, Clarissa," I grumble, "You don't have to discuss Ali as if she isn't sitting right beside you! And as for two women having sex, it's quite simple and not all that different from when you have sex."

"When I have sex?" she asks scowling, "I have sex with a man with an erect penis, Edward, silly boy! He puts that inside me and wiggles it about a couple of times until he has an emission! Gosh! I didn't know you were a virgin, dear boy! I love this conversation! It's such fun!"

"I'm not a fucking virgin! Shit! Right, if you really don't know any of this, this is how it works. You don't have to have a cock to have sex." I say, glowering at her.

"I don't have a cock, Edward! Dear Lord! You saw me in my sexiest underwear! You could see every shape and nuance of my body! Why on earth would you think I had a penis?"

Shit.

She isn't going to make this easy for me, is she?

"Right. Let's try again, shall we? Firstly, I don't think you have a penis, Clarissa, for God's sake! Secondly, answer me this. When you fuck Torquil," I say, huffing eventually as poor Alina splutters and stammers her way through her disjointed answers, "Does he just use his cock?"

"Yes, of course he does, darling! What do you think he uses?" she says, sounding bewildered, "His riding crop?"

If only she knew the possibilities that would hold for her but I bite my cheek, resist laughing and shocking her with a diatribe on that particular subject and continue. "Doesn't he have fingers and a tongue to use on you? Or a toy?" I ask, raising my eyebrows at her.

"Oh my! Neddy! Do you mean he could fuck me with those too? And a toy? Well, he has a collection of Beano and Dandy annuals and I know he still has his Action Man and Star Wars toys from when he was a little boy, but I don't see what use they could be used in the boudoir! Could he use Batman's legs instead of his penis? Wouldn't that be terribly grubby? Would I need to disinfect the toy after use?"

Dear God.

The entire canteen turns around to look in our direction and rolling my eyes, I nod. "Shit… why don't you shout a little louder next time, Clarissa?" I say, folding my arms across my chest, "The Black Widow is over there and might just have missed our conversation. NOT! Keep your bloody voice down! I would really rather not be the talk of the sodding university, you know!"

"Bit late for that, Edward. Everyone is already discussing you, I heard two girls talking about you in the library earlier. They were there when you were running around naked the other night. For some reasons they seemed quite excited by it all," Alina says, blushing as she looks at me and I grin at her. I think I make her nervous.

"I think you might be right then, Alina. Cheers for that, Clarissa," I sigh. "Do you even know where the erogenous zones are?"

"Yes, do you? There are lots of them you know?" Ali asks, staring devotedly at Clarissa.

"Yes, of course I do! Gosh you two do treat me as if I'm a total idiot!" she exclaims.

"Come on then," I say, nudging her, "Tell me where they are."

"That's easy, we studied them at school."

"Blimey, your school was ahead of its time," I chuckle, "Come on, tell me."

"They're near the Equator of course!" she states, slamming her glass down. Ali and I stare at her stunned to silence as she continues. "For heaven's sake! I did study at school you know! Anyway, I digress. I meant to ask you something, dear boy," she says as she shovels a mouthful of chow mein into her yakking mouth.

"What?" I ask with trepidation.

"Well, you know when we were in bed together the other morning?" she asks, one decibel down from Concord as it smashes through the sound barrier.

"_Shit, Clarissa…"_ I mutter and my eyes instantly lock with my professor who scowls at me. "Is there anyone in the building who didn't just hear you say that?"

"I noticed something odd about you when I was giving you a sniff and looked you over using my small hand torch, Cullen," she continues as Alina looks puzzled.

"You two were in bed together?" she asks looking suitably shocked. "I thought you were with Torquil, and that's why you didn't want to… you know… with me when I touched your… never mind." She says as I raise my eyebrow at her.

"Oh yes," Clarissa says, nonchalantly, "We were both drunk so I took Cullen home to bed with me. Bless him. Anyway, I noticed that your dooberries had no hair on them. Do you have alopecia?"

Fuck my life.

The black widow looks far more interested now and as I stare at her and feel my cheeks burn, she licks her lips and raises an eyebrow as she slowly slides her banana into her mouth, and against my wishes, my cock slams against the zip of my jeans.

Christ.

"Dooberries?" Ali asks, looking more bewildered than ever. "I don't understand. Do I?"

"Don't worry about it…" I mutter. "Don't ask her, Ali. Let's just leave it now…"

"His bollocks, silly!" Clarissa barks out and I splutter out a mouthful of water as an inhaled gasp reverberates around the canteen. As the icy liquid shoots down my nose, I cough and choke as the entire room looks at us. "He has the biggest balls I've ever seen! Bigger than daddy's stallion! When I touched them, they pulled up a bit and they felt so soft. I wanted to pet them and stroke them. His cock moved a bit and then went soft again. It was absolutely fascinating!"

"What the fuck?" I yell out. "You fucking touched me when I was _sleeping?_ I can't believe you did that! Tell me you're kidding me?"

"Of course, dear boy," she says, "I had to have a sniff there too to see if you smelled that nice all over and I've never seen anything quite like them before. You don't mind, do you?"

"Fucking hell…" I mutter out.

"What's the matter, Neddy?" Clarissa asks, frowning.

"I do fucking mind you doing that to me! Are you listening to me? Huh? Don't EVER touch me again! Seriously! If you do, I'll chop your hands off… and the reason I have no hair there, Clarissa," I spit out angrily as I rub my streaming, burning eyes, "Is none of your fucking business!"

"Bear with… bear with… bear with…" she mumbles as she stares at the screen of her beeping mobile phone, completely and utterly ignoring my outburst.

Ugh. If she says '_bear with'_ once more, I'm going to throttle her with her orange and brown bloody knickers.

Managing to extricate myself from Clarissa and Alina's grasp thanks to the fact that her concentration has been diverted, under the never ending watchful gaze of Madam Cavello, I sneak back to my rooms and finish several essays. Eating a takeaway curry as I go over the massive folder of work that I've made already and continue to make amendments in the margins, I cross reference with my notes on the computer screen.

I feel completely settled and that I belong in Cambridge. I know I've only been here for such a short time but despite that, it feels more like home than anywhere else I've lived in my life apart from when I spent time with the Whitlocks.

The work is hard and for the first time in my life, I've had to really study and really knuckle down. I love it. Today had taken me by surprise. We had spent the morning discussing cases of matricide, patricide and infanticide and we were to study court cases where these trials had both defending and tried those deemed guilty of these abhorrent crimes. I hadn't expected to have to deal with anything quite so hard hitting so soon but the court transcripts were so fascinating, that I didn't actually go to bed and fell asleep at my desk just after 5:00 am and looked like shit when I attended that morning's lecture. When I gave my views on the right and wrong of both sides, the Black Widow stared at me for a long time before she smiled, nodded and said, "Well done, Mr Cullen. It's so good to see that you are indeed living up to everyone's exulted views of you. It's a great pity other students didn't do quite so much work, Mr Evans!" Poor Christopher, another student on my course, he had gone to the pub with Clarissa and got hammered and hadn't done any of the set work. For the rest of the lecture, Henrietta glowered in his direction and in between, she stared at me. The traitorous bastard in my jeans twitched and as I crossed my legs to try and hide my affliction, her eyes flashed to mine again and she smirked.

Bitch.

Carlisle Skype's me on the Wednesday evening and shows me Anna, bound, gagged and blindfolded as she hangs from the chains that swing from the ceiling. She's on her tiptoes and there's a vacant smile curling at her lips. She's totally lost in the moment as Katy double flogs her and I'm instantly hard. As my voice falters, Carlisle chuckles because he knows precisely what he's doing to me.

"You have no idea what I've got planned for you this weekend… the party is going to be unlike anything you've ever experienced. We're going to our house in Runnymede. You'll love it there… especially when I bind you to a tree and fuck you… I can't wait… I miss your body…" He says.

"God… Sir…" I mutter as my hand squeezes my upper thigh.

"Now, be a good boy. Behave yourself and put both your hands on the desk. If you touch yourself, Edward," he says, "I'll know… you aren't supposed to have had an orgasm since you came all over Katy as I fucked you on Sunday afternoon, so I promise you, I WILL know if you have masturbated. My advice to you is this, be a very good boy, do all your homework, have an icy cold shower, drink some water and have an early night whilst I fuck my submissive to within an inch of her life. I will ring you tomorrow, sleep well my darling boy. Oh, and don't forget to give yourself an enema and use your stainless steel plug before you leave Cambridge. I need you clean and stretched. I won't be able to wait very long on Friday to get inside you and I don't want to hurt you more than I have to…"

I've never been so tempted to disobey his order and to call him a _'cock teasing bastard'_ but I think that was the point in this exercise, he was testing my strength of will and so I bite my lip, bid him a good evening with Katy and Anna and have a shower so cold, I think I'm risking hypothermia.

Every evening, I work my arse off to finish the set work well before the acquired deadline. I need to keep ahead of myself because my weekends will be busy enough as I try to juggle my parallel lives. I've committed to the two worlds and am determined to be a success in both. And then every morning, I swim a hundred lengths of the pool and work myself up to a sweat in the gym for an hour afterwards.

Several members of the rugby and rowing teams approach me with regard to joining their various faculties when I clamber out of the pool on the Tuesday morning. I explain that I have weekend commitments at home in London at the moment but agree to join them in their training sessions. It is even more competitive than at Eton and I love it. A couple of the guys from the rowing team make half arsed attempts at coming on to me, but as I said, I really don't want any of this shit in this part of my world so I pretend not to notice and simply ignore them.

Before I know it, it's Friday afternoon, and I climb into my car, taking nothing with me but my books and assignments for the weekend and head back south, to excitedly await my punishment.

Thankfully, the drive home is quicker than I anticipated so I have a couple of hours to return home to my own flat and to do a little food shopping for the following week.

At 5:00 pm, Annabelle calls for me and after she squeals and hugs me excitedly, we travel across London in a taxi together. She holds my hand and repeatedly hugs me telling me how wonderful I look and how glad she is that I'm back in London with her.

"I've had a great week," I tell her and we discuss how our first few days have been, educationally. I try hard not to stare at her legs or tits. She seems to have made friends with a couple of girls who have joined her course, having had to repeat their second year, and she looks happier than I thought she would at being back at university. She tells me that Carlisle was like something unhinged on Wednesday evening after he'd Skyped me. She said he'd used the double penetration attachment on his fucking machine as he fucked her throat and Katy sat in a corner and polished her PVC dungarees in readiness for Saturday night's party.

Blimey—a fucking machine…

"I haven't seen one of those yet…" I say, swiping the back of my hand across my suddenly damp brow. "Was it good? Did you cum? I wonder if he'll consider using it on me…"

"Did I cum?" she asks, incredulously, "Are you crazy? You've been away for a week and you ask me a lame asked question like that? I squirted all over Katy's feet! I ruined all her hard work because she'd just cleaned her boots. She wasn't impressed and made me lick them clean! I was shocked at how sweet it tasted and I asked Carlisle if I could do a scene with another girl sometime soon! It was an AMAZING night! I wish you could have been there, but then, if you had been, I doubt I would have got so much attention!" she giggles and I have to bite my lip as jealousy almost overwhelms me.

"You look nice today… very nice…" I say, trying to change the subject. She does look good and in many ways, she's totally underdressed considering that it's the middle of October. She looks really sexy and I'm struggling to keep my hands off her to be honest. The ache in my groin almost forces me to break our protocols. She's wearing a shocking pink t-shirt with '_Odaxelagnia' _emblazoned across her braless tits and her tanned; bare shapely legs are crossed, tempting me to touch them.

"What does that mean?" I ask as my finger accidentally, on purpose, brushes her hardened nipple as I trace over the script on her top. It's so tight that I can see her bar well through the stretched material.

"It means I get turned on by biting and by being bitten… Eddie… but you know… you know that already… don't you?" she whispers as I allow my finger to trail over her breast once again and rub backwards and forwards over her nub a few times. "Stop doing that… please… or I won't have the strength to make you stop… and you're already… already in trouble…" she says as her eyes follow the way that I shift in my seat.

"We're 'ere!" the cab driver barks. "Now will you two get outta me sodding cab before you do stuff you shouldn't do in day light! Bloody kids… no morals anymore… just disgusting be'avior…" he growls in a thick cockney accent as he snatches the money out of my hand and drives off without giving me my change.

"Miserable fucker…" I say, "I bet he can't even see his cock under his belly, let alone remember how to use it!"

"Ssssh… Eddie… don't shout… Carlisle doesn't like us drawing attention to ourselves remember?"

"Oh, and wearing a t-shirt that virtually asks the world to '_bite you'_ isn't drawing attention to you, Anna? Huh?" I laugh, "Not to mention that it's the middle of October and you're wearing shorts so tiny that you'd give Kylie a run for her money!" I say as I swipe the part of her cheek that's hanging out firmly with the tips of my fingers. The crack reverberates into the silent street and she shudders, jerking upwards.

"Well, arse wipe…" she says, breathing heavily, "You're allegedly 'Brains of Britain,' and even you… shit… even you didn't know what it meant…"

Grinning at her, I lean closer and smack her bottom again. "Like that do you?" I whisper, "And I'm clever am I?"

"Shit… do that again, Edward, and we won't make it inside…" Anna says, as she turns around and presses herself against me. "You know I like being spanked… fuck… I need to be fucked so badly right now… and stop fishing for compliments. Genius… do it again… fuck…. I want you… fuck me… use your fingers… please… I want you to fuck me with your fingers…" she whimpers as she clutches my t-shirt tightly in her fingers.

"Do you now…? Well at least you haven't got a bad case of blue balls like I have… you could make them go away… do you know how to do that? Do you?" I murmur as she shivers at my touch and she grinds into my erection making me groan out loud. Just as I dig my fingers into her cheek, and grab her hair with the other, a cough makes me look up.

Fuck it, once more we've been caught in the act as it were.

"Good evening, Edward, how lovely to see you again. I'm happy you're home where you belong. And good evening to you, Annabelle. What a pleasant surprise that you decided to travel here together," Carlisle says gravely as he frowns at us and folds his arms over his chest. "I thought we'd been over your inappropriate behaviour enough recently, and that we'd made it perfectly clear that you two were not to touch one another without permission. Dear me. I had thought I'd made my thoughts on this matter transparent, but it seems not. Do come in. Katy is already downstairs waiting for you. I think the four of us need to have a little chat… and then I need to let my wife loose with her extra thick cane… she needs to let off a little steam and I think you two will see quite why it's best never to antagonise a Dominatrix when she has PMT and is holding a walking stick…"

Shit.

….

**Well there you have it. **

**I REALLY enjoyed writing this chapter. It was fun and I needed a wee bit of light relief after the stresses and strains of some of the others. I hope you liked it too. **

**I wanted to show my boy now he's moved up to the next stage of his life and we will trot on at a faster pace through his years from now on, heading rapidly to the point where he meets Bella!**

**Edward is now well on his way with his legal studies. He's going to struggle with juggling everything and with behaving himself as his Dominant and Dominatrix have decreed. There is a real connection, mentally and physically between him and Annabelle that they need to get a grip on before it gets out of hand. I hope you like Clarissa, I love her! She's based on our wonderful English actress, Miranda Hart, so give her a look; she's amazing and adds a typically British, upper class eccentric twist to the mix. Poor Edward, he's surrounded by stroppy women! **

**As you can see, as much as Bella has struggled with submitting in the past, so has he. Perhaps this is one of the many complex reasons why Edward is so patient with her and rarely chastises her for being an aggressive submissive because he was one too! I hope this has given you an insight into his mind frame too. **

**Hugs from London. **

**More soon **

**Vicky x**

**PS**

'**Such fun,' 'Bear with… bear with… bear with…' and 'dooberries' are all the silly comments Miranda Hart's mother says regularly!**


	11. Chapter 11

**We're baaaack… and Erika Shoval, my angel, this one is all for you. Your kind words of encouragement have helped me from day one. Thank you. X**

…

**To those of you who are religious, happy Easter, to everyone else, I hope you didn't over indulge in too many eggs just yet. You aren't meant to get them until tomorrow!**

**I think ff is being a bitch again. I got virtually no readers for her last pov. Now, I may be wrong and you are simply just bored with my girl, but I'm hoping that isn't the case! Anyway, I hope you give this a chance.**

…**..**

**Well, well, well… you do like hearing about the boy, don't you? We still have a few readers but I really quite like that. It means that we keep him to ourselves, don't we? He is a little bit special, I have to admit and I adore writing his side of things. I'm on a bit of a roll at the moment, thank goodness, and my writer's block seems to have gone bye byes for a wee while. I've got the next seven chapters of her story ready to be beta'd and am going to concentrate on the lad for a bit.**

**Thank you, as always, to my darling Laura Mars, Rima2000 and the old ball and chain, Katy Dazzledbythe Cullen, for their unstinting hard work in polishing up my writing. Love you girls.**

**I wrote this chapter in a very different way. I started at the beginning and just kept writing, all the way through two chapters without reading back in any way. When I got to where I wanted it to end, I then went back to the beginning, read it, added to it, edited it and then split it in three. It was an odd block to write; new characters just flew at me from nowhere. I had absolutely no intention of it going in the direction it has, and I certainly had no plan to write it this way but it is what it is and I'm actually really happy with the end result.**

**This story is rated NC17/MA for its lemonicious contents. If you find slash, BDSM, mild sexual violence, emotional roller coasters or serious vanilla lemonyness offensive, bog off and read something else.**

**UNDER PRESSURE**

**CHAPTER 11**

_**Pressure pushing down on me  
Pressing down on you no man ask for  
Under pressure that burns a building down  
Splits a family in two  
Puts people on streets**_

It's the terror of knowing  
What this world is about  
Watching some good friends  
Screaming let me out  
Tomorrow gets me higher  
Pressure on people - people on streets

Chippin' around, kick my brains across the floor  
These are the days, when it rains it pours  
People on streets - people on streets

It's the terror of knowing  
What this world is about  
Watching some good friends  
Screaming let me out  
Tomorrow gets me higher, higher, higher...  
Pressure on people - people on streets

Turned away from it all like a blind man  
Sat on a fence but it don't work  
Keep coming up with love but it's so slashed and torn  
Why, why, why?

Love  
Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking  
Can't we give ourselves one more chance?  
Why can't we give love that one more chance?  
Why can't we give love, give love, give love..?

'Cause love's such an old-fashioned word  
and love dares you to care for  
The people on the edge of the night  
And love dares you to change our way of  
Caring about ourselves  
This is our last dance  
This is our last dance  
This is ourselves  
Under pressure  
Under pressure  
Pressure

**…**

**Previously **

"**Shit… do that again, Edward, and we won't make it inside…" Anna says, as she turns around and presses herself against me. "You know I like being spanked… fuck… I need to be fucked so badly right now…" she whimpers as she clutches my t-shirt tightly in her fingers.**

"**Do you now… well at least you haven't got a bad case of blue balls like I have… you could make them go away… do you know how to do that? Do you?" I murmur as she shivers at my touch and she grinds into my erection making me groan out loud. Just as I dig my fingers into her cheek, and grab her hair with the other, a cough makes me look up.**

**Fuck it, once more we've been caught in the act as it were.**

"**Good evening, Edward, how lovely to see you again. I'm happy you're home where you belong. And good evening to you, Annabelle. What a pleasant surprise that you decided to travel here together," Carlisle says gravely as he frowns at us and folds his arms over his chest. "I thought we'd been over your inappropriate behaviour enough recently, and that we'd made it perfectly clear that you two were not to touch one another without permission. Dear me. I had thought I'd made my thoughts on this matter transparent, but it seems not. Do come in. Katy is already downstairs waiting for you. I think the four of us need to have a little chat… and then I need to let my wife loose with her extra thick cane… she needs to let off a little steam and I think you two will see quite why it's best never to antagonise a Dominatrix when she has PMT and is holding a walking stick…"**

**Shit.**

…**.**

Just by the look of abject rage and disappointment on Carlisle's face, I know that Friday evening is going to be a long, protracted and deeply uncomfortable experience. For both Annabelle and me. Sigh.

"Get inside. Right now." Carlisle says, looking up and down the silent, empty street. "_Hurry up!_" he hisses, angrily.

Feeling suitably chastened and more than a little bit embarrassed that we've been caught groping one another in the street like the horny teenagers we are, we shuffle up the steps and walk across the threshold. I don't want the door to shut because I know that his barely contained temper will be free to be let loose. Neither of us dares to make eye contact with Carlisle as he slams the front door behind us with such force, the vase of white lilies on the table rattles and for one minute, I fear it's going to fall over.

"Take your bags to your room, right now. Hurry up! I'm so FUCKING ANGRY WITH YOU TWO! Do it, and do it NOW!" he barks. As I go to open my mouth to apologise and explain what had happened, he glowers at me. "Don't you DARE speak to me, Edward Cullen, don't you dare! I won't be able to control myself if you give me a sarcastic come back, you little fucker!" I turn to look at him, shocked, but instantly snap my mouth shut. Carlisle is normally gently spoken, even when he's in his dominant mode and I'm not used to seeing him lose his temper. I'm also not used to being spoken to like that. I may have been ignored as a child, but no one lost their temper with me. Unless I caught a nanny blowing my father, obviously, and then his wrath was a thing of pure terror to me. He's usually so controlled and this is a side of him that he either manages to keep very well hidden or that not many manage to drag to the fore. I think it's probably the latter one. "Do NOT speak to one another. Do NOT touch one another. I will follow you upstairs to ensure that you follow this simple order. You are behaving like brattish children, and because of that fact, I need to treat you as such. Because you will be left alone rarely this weekend, I will know if you break these simple rules. I'm deeply disappointed in you both and I'm beginning to think that having you two as submissives at the same time might just have been a mistake. I think Katy and I need to ensure that you spend more than a little time apart this weekend. I am instigating a seven day ban on contact of any kind between you two. I think we should also make you sleep separately from now on. Nod if you understand me, but don't open your mouths," he says, icily.

Fuck it.

I enjoy my night time conversations with Annabelle. She's my link back to my life in London and my contact with the world that I've decided to embark upon, BDSM. She's also quickly become my female best friend. Now that Jasper is so busy and that we rarely see one another, I find myself needing her company more and more. How will I manage to stick to this embargo? I know I'm meant to stick to their rules but I have to find a way around this. This is him just being pedantic.

"Edward Cullen," Carlisle says as Annabelle leads the way, silently, upstairs. She keeps walking without even slowing her step. She's a far better submissive than I am. I stop and turn around to face him, but keep my eyes lowered and don't look any higher than his knees. I can see him through my peripheral vision. He's wearing mid blue jeans and a skin tight, long sleeved t-shirt and, as ever, he looks incredibly handsome. I have to make myself behave. I look down at the chrome rung on the stairs, digging my blunt nails into the palms of my hands in a bid to force myself to stay silent because I want to try and at least tell him that I've behaved myself all week and that I have the worst case of blue balls I've ever had. He is so angry that I think I'm more stunned to silence, than doing as I'm told willingly, and my mind rattles with thoughts of what I should do now.

"I can almost hear the cogs of your brain whirring, boy." Carlisle says, crossly. "Don't even contemplate getting new phones with numbers I don't know about so that you two can keep in contact. Or email addresses. If you do that, Edward, or you, Annabelle, I will end our arrangements. I mean it! I'm sticking to this and I won't change my mind. I can see now that I've cut you both too much slack and it's entirely my fault, this has nothing to do with Katy. I can see that now. Sadly, I've done this mainly with you though, Edward, to be honest. I've been blinded by you and your beauty and by how much I want you near me all the time. Because of this, I haven't dominated you properly and I owe you an apology for that, you didn't sign up for me to indulge you. You signed a contract with us so that we can train you and dominate you sexually, physically and mentally and so far, I've failed you. But I promise you both, that is now over. I've over indulged you and your bad influence is rubbing off on Anna. Well, not anymore, I can assure you." He says as we keep walking upwards, slowly.

I hadn't even thought about the extra phone and internet accounts, but I am now… maybe not for this first punishment but definitely for the future and by the way Anna looks, I don't think she'd object either.

Annabelle is dragging her feet as we ascend and her shoulders are slumped.

"You will both feel my wrath this weekend, Edward. I strongly suggest you behave for the next two days. You have absolutely no fucking idea how angry Katy will be when I tell her what you've both just done. When I tell her how disrespectful you've both been towards us, and doing it in public, with the possibility of our _neighbours _seeing you behaving like that in the street! Christ! Do you have any idea how hard it is maintaining total anonymity? I have a thriving medical practice and Katy runs her own business too, as you both are aware. We HAVE to be dignified at all times. You are seriously crossing a fine line! I'm very disappointed in you, Edward and I truly hope you know that," he says coldly.

I think I've ascertained that already and I really wish he'd shut the fuck up now. I don't need any more of this bullshit. I came here to get fucked and to tell them all about my first week at university. I don't want a long sodding lecture.

Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair and don't say a word.

"Sorry if this is all tedious to you, Edward," he says, sarcastically. "Okay. You will be the property of my wife this weekend. I won't be touching you in any way. Katy will be solely in charge of you. She will punish you both, as this is her forte, and sexually, I will look after Annabelle. She will service my needs for the next two days. I won't touch you and believe you me, this will hurt me every bit as much as it will affect you. We have a party at the house tomorrow night as you know, and you were meant to help us with our demonstration with Annabelle. You won't be helping now, Edward," he says firmly. "You will keep my friend Caius company for part of the evening and will help with the cleaning up and serving for the rest of the time. And don't think that you're getting away lightly either, Annabelle, you won't be demonstrating with Katy and I. I know how much you were looking forward to being spit roasted, but now, that won't happen. I'm lending you to Caius for the night. You will soon see how lucky you are to have Katy and me as your Master and Mistress and perhaps you will start to show us the respect and love that we both deserve and demand from you. I can't tell you how very upset I am right now."

Fuck.

Reaching our tiny room, I sigh. Katy has been busy and our beds are now covered in Winnie the Pooh and Tigger duvet sets. Our onesies are washed and hanging on the outside of the wardrobes and there is a Wind in the Willows night light burning brightly from next to one of the plug sockets. That fucker is getting removed so I can charge my phone.

Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair and look around. I want to go home to my large, spacious apartment over-looking the Thames instead of spending a few days in a cramped, wood chip paper covered little box that is sparse, cheaply decorated and positively uncomfortable.

That's unkind really. It's not a horrible room and is okay, but compared to my own home, it's shabby. I should walk out the door, but I don't because the truth is, I really do want to be with them all. I would just prefer a nicer room but then since I got my money, I guess I've been somewhat spoiled and a reality check isn't a bad idea.

"Hurry up. Katy will be wondering what's happened to us." He snaps. "Get undressed; I will give you your clothes for the evening. Now, get a move on."

After we've stowed our bags in a totally uncomfortable silence, Carlisle stands and watches as we strip.

Carlisle yanks the wardrobe door open with such fury that I'm surprised it doesn't come away from its hinges. "Here!" he snaps as he hands Annabelle a transparent corset, stockings and suspenders, as well as a pair of high heels, all in black, to wear.

The fact that he doesn't give me anything to wear obviously meant that I am to remain naked. My heart sinks when he lifts up a stainless steel cock cage and grins at me. It isn't a happy smile. No. It's more like a smirk combined with a tinge of vindictiveness. I've never worn one of those and I scrunch my nose up at the thought of wearing it. Thank goodness I have a soft cock at the moment, or I'd be totally screwed.

A disgruntled huff at the side of me distracts me and I surrupticiously watch as Anna struggles to fasten the corset. Carlisle doesn't offer to help her and I'm obviously not allowed to so I keep looking downwards and focus on myself.

"Stop messing about, Annabelle!" Carlisle snaps. "Hurry up and get dressed or you'll be punished for another infringement! It isn't like you haven't put this on before! Fucking hurry up!"

Oh dear. His mood really isn't getting any better, is it?

Kneeling down, Carlisle leans in and trails his nose up my cock, inhaling deeply. I know what he's doing and swallowing, I try my best to control my fingers that are twitching to touch his blond hair. "I know I said I wouldn't touch you, but I have to so that I can do this. Oh… God you smell so good… I'm going to miss you this weekend… you have no idea how much, baby boy…"

Annabelle is unnaturally still and silent as she obviously watches our exchange and her huffing and tutting as she struggles to do up the tight hooks of her costume have ceased.

"Are you balls heavy, Edward? Do they ache in need? They look heavy… they look fucking full… and wonderful… did you touch yourself? Or even worse, let anyone else touch you when you were out of town?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "I trust you didn't masturbate this week… that would be a deal breaker for me, boy. I will send you home and not see you until next weekend if you've done that. Respond."

"No, Master Carlisle," I say honestly. My voice sounds off even to me and my tongue feels peculiarly thick. "I've got the worst case of blue balls I've ever had, Sir. The only time I've gone longer without any sort of release was the month before we met. Honestly, I didn't touch myself once and yes, they are so fucking heavy, they hurt. I promise you I haven't cum for ten days."

"You're a good boy, really. I know you didn't, but I wanted to hear you say that you hadn't." He says, nodding as he cups my balls, weighing them in his warm fingers and I groan as his hand squeezes them a little bit. "Oh, yes… very full… well… I am pleased about that… well, done, Edward. At least you managed to stick to one of our stipulations. I see that you didn't keep up your waxing or shaving, though. Did you forget that we told you to do that?" he says, grinning at me. The smile doesn't reach his eyes this time, but a bead of sweat trickles down his face and he licks his lips as my cock twitches.

Shit. I was so busy all week that I did forget to keep up my personal grooming. The thought of sitting at my desk, buffing my nails, makes me groan. Well, that and the fact that he now has his fingers wrapped around my hardening shaft.

Maybe he's changed his mind about fucking me? Of course, I've blown any chance of getting to bury my balls deep inside any part of his body this weekend, but I'll take whatever he'll give me right now. I just hope that he'll let me cum at some point tonight because my groin aches like fuck already. I know how he feels about me and I know how much he struggles not to touch me when we're together.

As he looks up at me, he pushes my foreskin back and smiles a genuine smile this time. Pursing his lips, he whispers words of kindness before he blows a warm stream of air over my wet head, and I groan again as he pokes his tongue out and licks me gently.

"Oh God… Sir… I thought you said you wouldn't…" I begin as my hands move to his hair.

"Quiet!" he says, "I didn't tell you to talk again, did I? Did you _hear _the words 'respond' or 'answer me?' Did you? Huh? I am starting to wonder whether you have any intention of even attempting to submit to us, Edward, I really am! And don't fucking touch me again without permission! Do you REALLY want an additional punishment to be added to what you are already due? Well? Do you, boy?" he demands.

I don't answer, instead I swallow and shake my head and as he bends his head and licks along my slit, I can feel my cock hardening further. My breathing is loud and ragged and my pelvis begins to move of its own volition.

"Keep it soft, Edward," he warns as my cock twitches. I can feel it hardening further in response to seeing him kneeling before me and to the feeling of his wet, rough tongue as it laves my flesh. Screwing up my eyes, I hiss out as his fingers make quick work of fixing the icy cold metal around my cock and balls. It feels heavy and uncomfortable and drags my sensitive cock and balls downwards. I really don't like it. "Keep if soft, boy. It will hurt like fuck if you don't. Now tell me, is there a problem, Edward?" he asks. "Respond!"

"I don't like it, Sir." I say, pathetically, "It almost hurts and I think it's too tight for my cock." I grumble as I give it a tug and wish I hadn't because it seems to tighten further. It feels like it's constricting the blood flow and a horrid thought flashes across my brain that I might have to go to hospital and show them my poor, rotting, gangrene afflicted prick. Fuck it.

"It isn't too tight. Stop sulking, and stop being such a big baby. It's the right size. I bought it myself after taking your measurements, so I know that for a fact. We have our cock cages specially made to order, so just get used to it. It isn't meant to be pleasurable or comfortable, do you understand me? Stand still and stop fiddling with it, it will hurt far more if you keep touching it. Your cock will get hard and I'm telling you now, Edward, you have never felt pain like that! You will wear that for as long as Katy sees fit," he says, coolly as he pushes Annabelle down onto a chair.

Without saying anything out loud, I mutter to myself as I wiggle my legs, trying to get a little bit of relief from the tight constricting pain.

"You know, I never would have thought that you would be such a whining brat," he says and I feel my cheeks burn. Chatting away to himself so quietly that I can hardly hear him, he plaits Anna's hair and piles it on top of her head in a precisely positioned twist. "Oh, I know this will be hard for you and I also know that it will hurt, Edward." he says more loudly now. "That's the entire point. We're teaching you that you have to behave and submit as per our agreement or you will have to face the consequences. You're a horny little fucker and you won't be able to keep your cock soft when Katy plays with your body. Especially when she massages your prostate. Imagine how much that will drive you nuts? Yes," he sighs, sounding much happier now as he pushes his hands into the cups of Anna's corset and readjusts her tits so that they look bigger. "That will be fun to watch. You will be squirming all over the place and no matter what you do; there will be no relief for you. Oh, and I will probably be fucking you anally tonight, Anna," he says, dismissively, changing the subject as if my pain and discomfort are of no relevance to him or not. I'm guessing that they're not. "I trust you had an enema earlier and ate only light meals today?" he asks her. "Respond!" He snaps as he pushes pins into the red confection to keep her hair in place.

"Yes, Master," she whispers, not moving in any way other than to part her legs a little. She obviously likes all of this because the insides of her thighs are wet and glisten a little in the dim light coming from the small lamps.

"Come down stairs and have supper. Katy will want to hear what's going on and why we've taken so long. She needs time to prepare and I think she needs to take some extra protein on board to help her stamina for tonight." He says, coldly, walking away. Reluctantly, I follow him, not looking behind me to see if Anna is doing the same. I feel more naked than I do when I'm totally naked and rather than my cock being something that people notice because of its length and thickness. But not today. No. Today, I'm sure that all three will laugh at me because it looks utterly ludicrous. That thought is enough to soften it and I sigh in relief as some of the pressure is released.

As we reach the ground floor, the smell of deliciously spicy food assaults my nostrils and my stomach rumbles loudly in response.

"Hello, chicks! You kept me waiting! What were you all doing up there? You better not have started without me, oh husband of mine!" Katy says brightly turning to look at us. Her smile disappears instantly and her face twists as she looks at her husband. "Come and sit down and eat. Carlisle, darling? What's the matter?" she asks, sounding worried. "Oh. Edward is wearing the cage. What did he do?"

For the next ten minutes, Carlisle relays our bad behaviour to his wife and partner. We both stand with our heads bowed, one either side of Carlisle as he sits at the head of the table and she sits next to him, holding his fingers tightly in hers. She says nothing as Carlisle rants and raves about our lack of respect, decorum and manners frantically gesticulating first to me and then to Anna as he waves his arms around like a maniac. In many ways, it makes me more nervous that she doesn't interrupt him or even comment. I would be much happier if she started to shout and throw things around so that at least I know what she is thinking. The silence is far worse.

"I think you both need to eat supper now," she says quietly as she waves us towards the table. "Sit down, and eat. In silence. And don't look at either of us. Or at one another. I will serve you your food. Eat everything I put before you and waste nothing. I chose from your likes and dislikes so eat it. Nod if you understand."

Shit.

The coldness in her voice makes a ripple of nervousness slither up my spine and instantly, I nod. Shuffling about on the hard, icy cold plastic ghost chair, I try to get comfortable but the cage is making it impossible. Almost immediately my naked arse cheeks stick to the seat and I now wonder whether I'll have any skin left on my backside when I stand up and I have a horrible feeling that my cock won't survive its cruel metal confinement tonight.

Tutting loudly, Katy leaves the room before returning with a large tureen filled with the most delicious curry I've ever tasted, accompanied by rice noodles and a fresh, coriander salad.

She really didn't need to tell me to clean my plate, it is absolutely amazing and I wish I was allowed to ask for seconds. But I'm not allowed to speak and I doubt they would agree to me over stuffing my belly any way. I'm going to be punished, and that on top of a full stomach wouldn't be the best combination.

"Clean up the kitchen and dining room, and then go to the bathroom and wash up, ready for our inspections. Go." She says, coldly, pointing towards the kitchen before she takes her husband by the hand. She leads him into the drawing room, and closes the door behind them. I can hear the low murmur of their voices and my heart sinks. This is not how I expected this weekend to begin.

Annabelle stands immediately and fills the double sided sink. She fills one with hot bubbly water, and the other with cool, clear water for rinsing. As she starts scraping the leftovers in the bin, I clear the table as quickly and quietly as I can. Looking at her as she washes the dishes as I dry them, I groan at the pain that radiates outwards from my crotch. My body from the waist to the knees feels like it's on fire and the ache is excruciating. She looks amazing in her corset and my fingers itch to touch the fabric to see just how tight it is. Her waist is so tiny that I'm sure I could get my hands all the way around her and the way that her tits move every time she reaches towards me means that my cock is frantically trying to fill itself with blood. Her breasts are usually really small but in this outfit, they're pushed up and look at least two sizes bigger than they actually are. The mesh is lovely and I want to bite her through it. Actually, I'd quite like to bite her out of it. The thought crosses my mind that I'd like to trail my tongue along the crevice before I wedge my cock in her cleavage and fuck her like that. The cage makes it impossible for my cock to get bigger, but that fucker keeps right on battling against steel torture implement and wincing, I mutter under my breath.

She smirks as she looks at me through the corner of her eye and then her gaze drops and she purses her lips, inhaling sharply. My eyes follow hers and I groan when I see my poor cock. It looks as if it's trying to fight itself out of the metal structure and is purple and deformed as it bulges through the gaps. I don't like it and by the way the pain is increasing with every heartbeat, neither does it. Reaching up into the cupboards to put the crockery away is agony and she fights not to laugh as I hobble around. I do manage to mutter 'bitch' out from under my breath a couple of times and when she accidently on purpose bends over in front of me, flashing her barely covered pussy, I get my own back by standing on her stiletto covered foot.

"Annabelle! Edward!" Katy bellows, making us both jump as we're wiping the table clean and trying to buff the glass as smear free as possible. "Downstairs! NOW!"

Oh fuck.

We both dash into the downstairs toilet, wash our face and hands and without saying a word, as demanded, we head towards the dungeon.

Katy is already in the room, walking about. Or rather, she is stomping around sounding royally pissed, thwacking anything within reach with a thick cane and Carlisle is nowhere to be seen.

"Annabelle," she says, "Remove your knickers and prepare yourself for Carlisle. He told you what you were to expect, so get ready for my husband and after you've used the large plug I've left on the table, kneel in front of the flogging bench, arms out to the sides, head down, and get ready to be punished. You will be kneeling on the stone floor, and I will provide no protection for your knees tonight. If you can't handle it, safe word. I'm in no mood for your melodramas or pity parties tonight. Understand me? Respond."

Shit.

Without a word, she nods her head and does as Katy orders. After removing the scrap of lace that is meant to be a pair of knickers, she struggles to get on the table and after fumbling about, she lies on her back. My cock seems to have developed fingers that are now gripping the sides of the cage, allowing the leaking head to bash against the bars. Opening her legs, she spreads them widely before she opens the lube and covers her fingers. Some spills on her upper thigh and I itch to reach over and slide my hand in it and help her. Exhaling loudly, she begins to probe her backside with her own fingers whilst refusing to meet my gaze. As she adds more lube, the squelching sounds are almost too much for me to bear. In response, my agonised, desperate cock thrashes against the metal so firmly that the increase in blood means the level of pain is so acute, it almost brings me to my knees. Its well over a week since I last had an orgasm and this is just making my already blue balls hurt to the point of nausea. Looking at Katy who isn't paying attention to me, I shuffle closer and watch as Anna adds a second and then a third finger. Twisting them together, she starts to languidly fuck herself and relaxing properly, her legs flop completely onto the table and her mouth drops open as her eyes close.

"That's enough, Anna," Katy says, "I don't want you to cum; just to be oiled up and ready for my husband. Use the plug. Hurry up."

Removing her fingers, Annabelle grapples around trying to find the plug without having to sit up. Her hands rattle about but are inches away from the shiny metal orb. Huffing, she slams down the bottle of lube that she's picked up by mistake as she goes to sit up.

"Stay where you are, Annabelle." Katy says, a hint of humour colouring her tone now. "Edward, my girl seems to be struggling a little bit over there. Please be so good as to make sure that she's relaxed and totally aroused. Go and help her. Suck her clitoris and push the plug inside of her, and do it now." She orders.

Carlisle had forbidden any interaction between us and standing, I'm torn between the desperate need to touch Anna and my reticence to get paddled even harder than I know I'm already going to be.

"Is there a problem, Edward?" Katy asks with no emotion in her voice whatsoever as I shuffle about from foot to foot. "Answer me. Now."

"No, Mistress," I say, "Well, that is… um… yes, Mistress. I mean… um…"

"Hurry up, boy! We don't have all night; your Master's arrival is imminent! Tell me what is your problem? Look at me and speak properly. I have given you a direct order and I expect you to follow it, without any kind of indecision. Hurry up and explain yourself clearly, I know you have the gift of the gab, Edward, stop stumbling."

"Permission to ask a question, Mistress?" I ask, snapping my legs together respectfully and almost castrate myself in the process.

"Yes, yes," she says, sounding annoyed, "Get on with it!"

"Sorry, Mistress…" I mutter. "Um… it's just that Master Carlisle said I wasn't allowed to have any kind of interaction with your other submissive this weekend. I don't know which of you I'm meant to follow. Can you help me please? Whose instructions do I ignore and who do I listen to?" I say, so fast that the words all but jumble up in my hurry to get them out.

"Very good, Edward." She says, nodding and pursing her lips, "Very good. You just passed our first test. Now, please, do as I asked and suck Annabelle's clit and make her feel good before you penetrate her with the plug. You have five minutes. Do it now."

Okay. Another test.

Nodding, I look down and clasping my hands behind my back, I quickly walk across the room and stop in front of Annabelle. For the first time since we entered the house, we look at one another. Trying not to grin at what I'm about to do, I kneel in front of the table and stare between her spread legs. Gosh she looks pretty and my poor cock starts to cry in desperation. I ignore it.

"Get on with it, Edward," Katy sighs. "Do I have to really stand behind you both and ensure that you follow every single direction this weekend? I have a large consignment of napkins to do tonight so when we've finished with you both, you will be expected to help me. Hurry up."

I grab hold of Anna's ankles and drag her downwards so that her bottom is right on the edge of the table. Pressing on her upper thighs, I drop to my knees and lean forwards and take a long lick of her wet pussy. She wriggles and presses upwards but doesn't make a sound. Grinning, I open my mouth and without giving her a chance to get ready for me, I suck her clitoris into my mouth firmly, making her jerk and gasp. I use far more pressure than I usually would and as she bucks against me, I quickly lube up my hand and push my middle finger into her backside in one smooth movement.

"_Oh my God…"_ she whimpers. "_Your fucking mouth… shit…"_

"Did you say something, Annabelle?" Katy snaps and instantly, Annabelle stops moving and sort of flops against my hand. Removing my finger, I instantly replace it with two and begin scissoring them, opening her up, stretching her and getting her ready for the large plug. Looking at it, even I wince a little bit because it's huge, not as big as my cock but certainly broader than Carlisle's. "Hurry up, Edward," Katy says. "Must I keep monitoring your every movement today? Your Master will be here in a few minutes and he wants to watch Annabelle being punished with the plug in place, so bloody well get on with it."

Nodding, I suck harder and add another finger. I slowly fuck her with my hand, before I push the digits of my other hand into her pussy and repeat my actions, double penetrating her for the first time. Turning my hand around so that I can curl my fingers upwards and massage her g-spot, I continue torturing her clitoris with my lips and tongue. She breathes out loudly and shudders as I increase my pressure as I move both hands and my mouth faster. Her inner thighs begin to quiver in response to my ministrations and I ease off a little. If she climaxes, we're both in bigger shit than we already are and she's very obviously het up from the threats of punishment as well as our grappling on the pavement. As she sighs and relaxes a little and the threatened orgasm subsides, I remove my fingers. Before she has a chance to realise what I'm doing, I quickly lube up the implement and slowly push the bulbous, stainless steel plug inside her backside and she gasps at the cold, wide stretch.

"Well done, Edward." Katy says, smiling at me now. "That was quick! Anna's quite right in her assessment; you have the most remarkable mouth. Now, lie back, Annabelle, relax. Let your body get used to the size and weight of the plug. Boy, come over here. I need you to help me get ready for you too."

What? Katy is going to let me fuck her backside? I can't believe it! She doesn't like anything to do with anal sex. What's she talking about?

Turning around, I bite my lip so hard to stop myself from laughing, that I'm sure I've broken the skin as I stagger to my feet. My knees are sore from the cold, hard floor and my cock is throbbing painfully. I'm not sure which one hurts the most to be honest but the sight in front of me almost makes me forget my discomfort.

Katy is now dressed in nothing but a black PVC bra and a matching harness containing a large, bright yellow strap on. Unbelievably, it's shaped like a duck's bill. Oh Christ. Surely she isn't going to fuck me wearing that? Is she? I'll never be able to take this seriously and I'm beginning to think that her waterfowl obsession is getting totally out of hand.

"Get on the table and kneel over Annabelle's head, but facing away from me. Stay up on your knees for now and don't you dare touch her! Hurry up! I want to get you ready for your punishment. Come on. Do it. With legs as long as yours, I doubt you will need any help climbing up there. Hurry up, Edward!" She orders as I scowl at the floor but do as she says.

What the hell has she got planned for us this time?

Doing as she's asked of me, I clamber onto the table and straddle Anna's face. The fact that her mouth is within such close proximity to my cock makes my body convulse in need and as I shudder, Katy tells me to drop forwards and continue working on Annabelle's pussy with my mouth whilst she gets me ready for her plastic cock.

Shit. My poor balls hurt so much now that even the slightest movement makes me clench my teeth. I'm so fucking tempted to safe word and throw the metal bastard at her strap on but the stubborn part of me refuses to give in.

As I press my tongue against her, Anna rotates her pelvis, thrusting her clitoris further into my mouth, and whimpers. I suckle it more gently now. She's so close to cumming and I really don't want either of us to get punished any more than we need to. I might be perceived as a masochist being part of this world, but I'm not totally deranged. Humming as quietly as I can, I nuzzle against Annabelle's wet body. She tastes amazing against my lips and I fight the urge to thrust my steel covered cock against her face. It would be a fruitless exercise and I could hurt us both and although I can easily afford to have her teeth fixed if I did damage them, I don't think any amount of money could pay for my cock and balls to be reattached when she'd finished with me. She whimpers as I push my tongue deeply inside her and move it in and out slowly. She starts to shiver almost immediately as she fights not to cum and I make sure that my nose isn't bumping against her clitoris too firmly so that I don't make it too unbearable for her.

I'm so busy concentrating on the task in hand or rather, in mouth, that I don't notice Katy opening a bottle of lube until she slides one finger inside of me. Whining, I pull my mouth away from Anna's body and arch backwards as she slowly thrusts it in and out. "Well this is the first time I'll have fucked your arse, boy," she says, "And I promise you, I'm fucking good at this. I'm not as careful as my husband and my strap on is a feeldo, especially adapted for me so I fuck myself as I fuck you. Make it good for me, Edward." She suddenly adds a second finger. They are long and thin, much thinner than Carlisle's, but they feel fucking marvellous. Adding a third, she moves them so fast over my prostate that I cry out. The ache in my balls is horrible now and I try to move away from her in a bid to make it stop.

"I don't think we'll worry about the punishment caning for the moment, Edward," Carlisle says from in front of me. I jerk upright because I hadn't expected him to speak to me because I hadn't heard him arrive. "That can come later. Right now, my wife and I need some sort of release. God you two look fucking good like that…" he whispers as he strokes his fingers around my arousal covered lips. "Just remember… if either of you cum, your punishment will be more severe than either of you could possibly ever imagine." He finishes, icily.

Great.

Katy grabs hold of my hair and yanks my head backwards. I cry out at the unnatural arch she has forced my body into and at the same time as she thrusts the hard, cold plastic cock deep inside my backside. She doesn't give me any time to get used to her intrusion before she begins to thrust in and out of me.

For the first time since I lost my anal virginity, I feel nervous and scowl as I grapple at thin air in a bid to steady myself as I watch him wank himself as he pours thick, gloopy lube into his hand and gets himself ready to fuck his submissive.

Carlisle smirks at me as he pulls the plug from Anna's body, lifts her legs over his shoulders, lines himself up and pushes his uncovered, glistening cock, inside of her in one motion. She shudders and makes a high whimpering noise as he grips onto her corset covered breasts so tightly, I'm sure that she'll bruise. "Jealous are we, boy?" he asks as he grins at me.

I am, but it's more than that. I'm so fucking turned on that the pain from my groin is so horrific that I want to puke. Closing my eyes, I open my mouth and try to pant in a futile bid to calm myself down as my cock starts to have a fit of histrionics inside its prison.

Shit.

Carlisle smiles at me before he turns his head to the side and sinks his teeth into Annabelle's ankle. Fuck it. I love biting and being bitten. She shudders and whimpers as he starts fucking her at a punishing pace and unbidden, we gravitate towards one another. I can't help it. Just being near him pulls me forwards. We're within inches of one another and it would be so easy just to lean forwards and kiss him on the mouth. I don't.

Every time Katy thrusts forwards, a quack emits from somewhere deep inside of me and I now know in what way her appendage was custom made for her. It would be funny if my body wasn't hurting so badly right now.

Fighting the urge not to laugh hysterically at the ridiculous sound, I sigh in relief as my cock softens a small amount. Just enough to allow the agonising burn to ease off, despite the fact that she's milking my prostate with every movement of her strap on. The squeaky toy sounds is quite enough to make my cock limp and soft.

"Your new toy is a tour de force… darling…" Carlisle comments as his thrusts become more erratic. Unable to help himself, he leans in and kisses me on the lips. "Brilliant… idea…" he says through clenched teeth. "We must see… if… we can get a… fuck… if we can… Jesus, Annabelle, you're tight tonight… get a gander one. That would be… great…"

Within minutes, he throws his head back and thrusts hard and fast, yelling as he pulls out and cums all over my chest and sprays up my neck and face. I gasp in shock that he's chosen to cum outside a surprisingly quiet Annabelle. I've seen her in action plenty of times and fucked her once without permission and I know for a fact that she's rarely still when one of us is cumming. Even if she doesn't speak, she makes noises of some kind, but not tonight. Tonight she is utterly still and silent, almost detached and as I stare at her, she doesn't even seem to be aware that I'm looking at her. This is Annabelle in true submissive mode and I suddenly realise that she's much better than me at all of this and that I have a lot to learn from her. A sinking feeling hits my stomach. I don't like anyone being better at anything than me and make a silent decision to try harder.

Carlisle's cum drips off my nose and chin and runs down my chest, and poking my tongue out, I lick it off my lips. "Fucking hell… Edward… on… your hands… and knees," he pants and nodding in gratitude because I now ache all over, I do as he says.

Unaware of my internal ramblings, Katy doesn't lose a beat. She just keeps right on thrusting. Suddenly, she pulls away from me and yanks her quacking accoutrement out from inside of my aching backside. I don't move, I remain on my hands, balanced over Anna's face.

"Lean forwards… and clean… Annabelle, Edward," Carlisle orders just as Katy's fingers return to my backside and she probes me a little bit. "And replace the plug."

Nodding, I grab the soiled, slippery plug and frown, before I hiss out.

"Are you sore, Edward?" she asks. "Respond."

"No, Mistress. I'm fine… fine… just… just… the cage… isn't…" I stop mid-sentence and I moan as she shoves something inside of me. Immediately, a tingling, sizzling light prickle fills my arse and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from yelling out loud. That added to the way my cock is straining against the steel, is almost unbearable, and I arch and shake.

"Come on… Edward…" Carlisle pants. "Get on with… it… it or safe word."

Fuck that.

Without a word, I drop down and start slurping up the small amount of Carlisle's jizz that had dripped on her body. I need to focus on something else because the fizzing is driving me to the point of insanity. Just as Katy pushes herself inside of me again, I yelp out. The burn increases with every inward thrust and my cock is instantly slammed against the hard cage. I have no idea what she's put inside me but whatever it is, it's making my poor prostate fire on all cylinders and I am seriously at the point of yelling out my safe word.

"Fuck…" Katy groans, in between quacks, obviously, and just as I start sucking Anna's clitoris again, Katy cums, slamming the dildo into me so fast and hard, I feel like I'm being split in two.

I, of course, can't cum because of the fucking implement of torture that's biting into my cock so tightly that I'm convinced my appendage is going to drop off through lack of blood flow. Forgetting that I'm only meant to be cleaning Anna, I suck harder as I try to assuage my own desperation and frustration, and as I shove the plug back inside her arse, she jerks upwards and with a loud yelp, she cums all over my mouth and the table.

"Fucking… hell! Annabelle!" Katy barks. "EDWARD! YOU… IDIOT! I TOLD YOU TO CLEAN HER! NOT… NOT… fucking hell… MAKE HER CUM!"

Oh dear…

"Off the table! NOW! Both of you!" Carlisle bellows. "I can't trust you two to do anything you're told to do tonight, can I?" he says, sounding stunned as he grabs my arm and yanks me off Annabelle. She squeaks and I'm worried that I've hurt her as my knees crash into the side of her head. "Follow me, Edward," he orders and steadying myself, I wince in pain as I try and walk behind him. "Hurry up!" he barks. I do my best. Really I do, but my cock is excruciatingly painful and I can hardly stagger across the stone flooring. My feet drag and I'm so tired that I'm on the point of collapse. "Stand there!" he yells before he drops to his knees and without any warning, he undoes the cage and yanks it off my cock.

Blood floods to my poor organ and it can't make its mind up whether it wants to be hard or soft. All I know is that it fucking hurts and it's hanging at a peculiar angle. My balls feel about ten times their usual size. My mouth drops open, but no sound comes out. Not even a whine. I close my eyes as I pant through my open mouth, in a bid to hold the tears back, as the throbbing pulse almost overwhelms me.

"Colour, Edward," he asks, sounding concerned. When I don't respond, he walks up to me and hands me a bottle of ice cold water. "Colour…" he asks again, more gently now as his hand rests on my damp shoulder. Opening my eyes, I stare at him and guzzle the water down quickly. Instantly, beads of sweat trickle down my face and neck and sighing, I look at him. I don't know whether I want to hit him for the level of pain I've just experienced, or kiss him for pushing my limits. "Talk to me, boy," he says, holding my hand. "Do you want to safe word? Tell me your colour. Please, or I'll have to end the scene and take you home to south London. I'm worried that I've hurt you. Come on, baby, tell your Master."

"Law…" I manage to croak out and am surprised as my voice breaks on that one small word. "Law… Master Carlisle."

"Are you alright?" he asks, "Look at me and respond."

"Yes, thank you, Sir." I say, not embellishing any further.

"How do you feel?" he says.

"Feel?" I say, feeling both bewildered and lightheaded. "Um… I feel like I've been kicked in the balls during a rugby match. I don't think I've ever been so sore. I feel knackered and I really didn't like that thing…" I say, pointing to the discarded cage, curling my lip at it as I do so. "That fucking hurt like a fucking bitch…" I grumble.

"Indeed it does hurt." He says, smirking at me now, "I remember only too well and when I misbehave, believe you me, my wife uses one on me and reminds me that at all times, I need to be an attentive, loving husband, isn't that right, darling?" he chuckles.

"Oh course, love," she says, laughing.

"And what Katy has planned for you both next will hurt even more. As you will see, my wife has a deeply sadistic streak, far more than I do actually, and that's why I leave all punishment to her. Go to the lavatory and empty your bladder, and come back. I need to massage your genitals to help with the swelling and then you will be punished for your lapses in respect and concentration earlier. Okay?"

I nod; feeling slightly stunned and spaced out as the blood continues to fill my poor cock. Dropping my hands, I groan because my erection is now in full flow, as it were and peeing will be near on impossible. "Er… yes… thank you, Master, but… um…" I whisper as I point to it. "You'll manage. It is difficult and not particularly comfortable, but it is possible. Just. Do your best, I need you to empty your bladder after that, okay?" Carlisle says. Nodding, not feeling particularly confident, I turn around, feeling slightly robotic and head towards the basement toilet.

Sitting on the seat, I drop my head in my hands and try to work out what just happened. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why the hell have I signed up to have my cock and balls tortured to the point of vomiting and am about to head back into the dungeon to be punished further? I guess it says a lot about my fucked up psyche. Scrubbing my face roughly up and down my hot, damp face, I stand up and luckily, my cock has softened to the point that I can pee whilst I've been contemplating my navel.

Washing my hands, I look at myself in the mirror. Despite the agony I've just experienced, I look flushed and excited. My poor cock looks utterly deformed and is not a healthy colour. I run my fingers over the marks caused by the rounded bars of the metal with rapt fascination. Yep. I'm sick.

Sighing, I walk back towards the room of agony and pass Annabelle in the corridor. She looks at me and smiles but refusing to hold myself up for any more punishment; I stare at her blankly and lower my eyes. "_Christ, who the fuck gave you a personality transplant?"_ she mutters as she dashes into the toilet and slams the door behind me.

"ANNABELLE!" Katy barks, "I HEARD THAT!"

Shit she has the ears of a bloody mouse.

Standing in front of the flogging bench, I close my eyes and try and calm my breathing. I don't know whether I'm excited or scared. All I know is that my heart is pounding, my cock is once again rigid and the sweat is pouring off me.

"Come over here, Edward," Carlisle says, reasonably quietly. Doing as he asks, I stand before the wooden structure and clasp my hands behind my head. "On your knees." He says. I stop breathing. I thought I was being punished? He wants me to give him a blow job? Well, blowing him is always a pleasure and never a chore. After telling me that I won't be touched by him all weekend? I don't understand any of this. "Spread your knees, lean forwards, stretch your arms in front of you, place the side of your face on the floor and raise your arse as quickly as you can. Do it now."

I don't understand this at all, I don't know what they are going to do to me… but I do as I'm told because after all, I signed up to learn and I'm certainly doing that tonight.

Concentrating as hard as I can, I wince because the floor is freezing against my sweaty face and my back and arms ache from the unnatural position that I'm being kept in. I hear the clicking sound of Annabelle's shoes as she returns to the room and she stumbles slightly when she sees me prostrate before our Master and Mistress.

That makes me fight the urge to laugh. She didn't think I had this in me and now I want to show her that oh yes, I fucking well do.

"Against the flogging bench, girl," Carlisle says. I can hear noises and I'm guessing that she is being attached to the wood. "I'm putting a ball gag in your mouth. I don't want your screaming to scare our new toy away. It's only his second weekend, and I think he's struggling quite enough to understand what's happening to him tonight. Am I right, boy?"

I don't respond, but he's quite right. I am. The confusion I feel from being both aroused and scared at the same time is utterly alien to me and I feel odd. My brain feels as if it's being split into what I know is right, what I know is wrong and what I just know. If that makes sense. It doesn't. I know it doesn't because it doesn't make sense to me and I'm the one that's feeling it.

"Well done, Edward," he says. "I see that the cage focussed your attention. That was the point. I needed you to be forced into focus. Good boy… you're such a good boy…" he continues as he kneels behind me. Popping open a bottle, he suddenly begins to massage a thick, icy cold gloopy substance all over my cock and balls and begins rubbing it in firmly. No matter how hard I try to will my erection to fuck off, it ignores me and I whimper as it becomes even harder in my Master's hand. His fingers probe and press against my perineum and I jerk upwards to try and encourage him to press harder.

Pulling away, he stands up and walks across the room without castigating me for moving a little bit.

"Right," a thickly accented voice says from the far side of the room. "Come on, Edward. Let's get this punishment show on the road, shall we?"

Mistress Katy.

Suddenly and without any warning, a loud smacking sound resonates around the cellar and before I can raise my head, the pain registers in my brain. What the fuck was that? The burn fires through every synapse and I bite my cheek to stop myself from yelling "MONEY!" as my head shoots upwards and I have to fight the urge to cover my backside with my splayed hands.

Twenty hard smacks later, ten on each cheek, my arse is on fire. The pain is excruciating and fights in comparison with the cock cage. Horrifically, I've never had such a painfully aching erection in all my life.

"Right," Katy says, "Now let the punishment begin."

What the fuck? That wasn't the punishment? What the hell is this?

A crack fires through the air and I levitate as something hard, cold and agonisingly painful hits my left arse check. It ricochets against my flesh before the same thing happens to my right buttock.

Digging my head into the hard ground, I sink my teeth into my lip so firmly that I'm surprised blood doesn't spurt everywhere.

It's relentless and I squeeze my eyes tightly in a desperate attempt to stop myself from screaming in pain, anger, humiliation and arousal as whatever she hits me with rains down on my lower back, arse and thighs. The way it wraps around my outer legs is excruciating. "Thirty!" Katy says, brightly and not even slightly with a raised respiratory level. "All done, Edward! Good boy! Not a sound! Well, well, well. You CAN obey me when you concentrate. We will keep the cage on standby, Carlisle; I think it's going to be the ideal way of making Edward behave. Don't you? Now, be good and stand up and let my beautiful husband give you some after care. Annabelle, brace yourself, it's your turn now. Take your corset off."

I try to get up, I really do but my arms are rigid and my elbows have locked. The build-up of lactic acid in my muscles is agony and my knees hurt from being on the cold floor for so long. Before I know what's happening, Carlisle drags me to my feet and leads me across the room. I walk like I did when I was pissed last weekend. God… that life seems so far removed from this one that I find it hard to remember what I do when I'm not with Katy and Carlisle. I guess this is the mind-set I was trying to get to earlier.

"On the table, Edward, come on, there's a good boy," he says in little more than a whisper. "Your back and backside are scarlet, come on. Let me make it feel better."

I shuffle onto the soft leatherette surface, bare bollock naked and flop onto my stomach. I feel as if every bone has been pulled out from my body. Instantly, Carlisle's large cool hands stroke over my inflamed cheeks, upper thighs and lower back. He pours something onto my skin and I wince, expecting it to hurt but instantly, the fiery burn eases off and I feel my body relax once more. His fingers dig into my flesh and as he continues his ministrations, I feel myself drifting away.

A loud thwacking sound makes me jerk awake and lift my head up. Annabelle is kneeling. She is stretched tightly over the bench in a saltire shape, spread widely and Katy is standing to the side of her, wielding a cane. She's hitting her on the cheeks of her bottom and upper thighs with firm, perfectly balanced swats. Annabelle's skin is lined with pink, lavender and red stripes and I've never seen anything as erotic in my whole life.

I haven't been told that I can watch, but I don't care, Carlisle can do his worst, I want to see this. My cock is ramrod straight immediately and my balls throb again. The vulnerable position that Anna is in is so beautiful that I want to take the cane out of Katy's hand and do what she's doing to her instead. The widely spread position means that I can see the jewelled head of the bulb peeping out from between her cheeks. Fuck it all.

"Do you like what you see, Edward?" Carlisle asks, bending down to whisper in my ear. "She looks perfect in her submission, don't you think?" I can't take my eyes off of them. "Can you imagine the sense of honour, pride and power that wielding that implement means to a dominant? The trust we are given? How special that makes you feel? Can you? Would you like to know how that feels?" he continues.

"Yes… yes, Carlisle… I would…" I whisper. And it's the truth. She does. Her head hangs forwards and she sort of sags in her restraints as Katy canes her. The marks are so beautiful and I know that they're raised. All I want to do right now is to trail my tongue over them and see how they feel under my fingertips.

"Oh, Edward. My darling, darling boy," he continues. "You have a lot to learn, young man. I would have thought my wife's hand would have ensured that you stayed focussed and paid attention to our wishes and instructions. I didn't tell you to respond, did I?"

Shit. He's tripped me up and I've once again forgotten my instructions, overwhelmed as I am at the beauty of the interaction between the two women.

"It would seem that the cage wasn't enough of a deterrent for you after all, my lovely, was it? Go to your room, have a shower, drink a litre of water and go straight to bed. Do not talk to Annabelle and the only thing you are allowed to do is one hours college work and to fill in your journal. You aren't to speak AT ALL! You mustn't listen to your music and you mustn't make a sound. Is that understood?" he asks.

I don't respond.

"Well done, Edward. Well done. This has all been quite an eye opener for you, I imagine. Do you have any questions? Do you want to discuss things with me now or can you wait until tomorrow? Now, respond to me, please?"

"Yes, Sir, I understand. I have no questions and I am happy to wait until the morning to discuss the scene, if it pleases you, Master."

"I love hearing you speak to me like that…" he murmurs as his lips brush mine and his hand gently strokes my engorged balls. "I wish I could have you chained to my bed tonight, Edward," he continues, "But because I'm not going to fuck you this weekend as a punishment, I can't. I wouldn't be able to control myself so you will sleep in your own bed. Alone. You two must not sleep together this weekend. Okay?"

I don't say anything, but instead, I clasp my hands behind my back and keep my gaze averted.

"Good. That's very, very good, boy. Now, thank us for taking such good care of you, kiss our feet and go upstairs," he says as he hands me two pain killers and a glass of water.

The thought of kissing anyone's feet fills me with disgust but I do it. Funnily enough, I like this feeling. I have no idea why but I feel almost completely divided now. One part of me is the voracious student and the other part relishes the fact that I can hand all feelings, emotions, needs and wants over to someone else. Someone who will ensure that I'm dressed, fed, kept clean and made to do as I'm told. Sort of like a perverted parent and son relationship. However disgusting that thought feels to me, it makes sense too. For the first time _ever, _someone cares enough about me to make sure I go to bed at a set time, I eat properly and study. No one has ever done that before. Not even when I was at boarding school did anyone chase me up to do my prep work in the evenings and the Whitlocks let Jasper have total freedom so they wouldn't have been any different with me, would they? Being the educational sponge that I've always been meant that I had done my homework days before it was due, and I'm still the same now but still, it's nice that someone _cares _that I do things properly. If this level of obedience is what I have to do so that they will keep caring and needing me, I will do my damnedest to submit and be what they want me to be because oddly, they give me what I need too.

After I've bent down and gently kissed Carlisle's left foot, I rest the side of my face on the dorsum, and smile before I do the same with his right foot.

"Oh, Edward… you are such a beautiful boy…" he whispers as he reaches down and strokes the sweaty skin of my back.

I stand; lower my eyes and say, "Thank you for punishing me, Master. Thank you for showing me the error of my ways. I promise you, I will do better."

"Fuck…" he mutters, "You're fucking irresistible when you're like this, Edward…" he says as he strokes his fingers through my hair. "Thank you for submitting to us. And just to let you know, when I trained? I was far more defiant than you've been so far. You're doing very well. You are, love, you're doing really very well indeed and other than one or two small aberrations, you are following our orders quite well."

I don't want to be doing quite well. I want to be doing brilliantly and so I know, I have to do much better so that I don't disappoint them any further.

Walking across the room, I straighten my back and clasp my hands behind my back. Lowering my eyes, I bend my knees, and lower myself to the floor, lying flat on my belly, utterly prostrate before her.

"Permission to speak, Mistress?" I ask.

"Yes, Edward," she says, her voice cracking slightly.

"Thank you for caring enough to punish me and show me how to submit to you properly. Forgive me for my bad behaviour, Mistress, I promise I will do better."

"You are forgiven, love," she says, quietly as I do the same to her feet. When I rest my cheek against her foot, she lets a shaky breath out and smiling to myself, I suddenly know how to keep them happy.

When I stand, Annabelle has been untied and is now lying on the bed awaiting her after care. Her hair is all over the place and she looks exhausted. Smiling, Katy pats me on my cheek. "You're a good boy, Edward. And although you push our buttons, you're no bother really. You have the best backside I've ever seen to beat. Those muscles are nice and round and solid. The implements bounce nicely. I enjoyed that. Thanks love. Now go to bed, there's a good boy and come down stairs in your onesie in the morning. We need to talk over what has just happened and we will tell you all about tomorrow night's party and what will be expected of you. Okay?"

I don't say a word.

"Well done. Now off you go," Carlisle says, patting me on the shoulder. "Don't forget to have a shower first. Don't have it too hot, Edward, your skin will be terribly tender for a few days, and use the arnica cream in the cupboard to soothe your skin more."

I walk up the first two flights as quietly as I can and then I sprint up to the top of the house and flop onto the chair, wincing as I do so. My arse still burns like fuck, inside and out. A chunk of silicone being rammed in and out without any respite means that my bum feels like minced meat and the outside doesn't feel much better to be honest.

After showering, I carefully rub on the lotion. Carlisle was right, it does help. I pull on a pair of boxer shorts, clamber into the bottom bunk and pull out my journal and essay folder. Just as I begin to write, the door opens and a red eyed, puffy faced Annabelle walks in. Without saying a word, she goes into the bathroom and instantly, I hear the water start to run. She obviously didn't manage to hold back her tears like I did.

I'm halfway through my journal assignment when Anna returns to our room. She's now wearing her onesie and without looking at me, she climbs the ladder, taking her rucksack with her. She still says nothing.

"_Aren't we allowed to say anything to one another at all? Not even goodnight?"_ I whisper to her. She doesn't respond so I don't try again. Setting the alarm on my watch, I start to make notes in the borders of my weeks work, and before I realise how much time has passed, the beeper goes off.

"Sleep now." A voice says from outside my room, making me jump. Annabelle's bag is dropped from the top bunk and silently, she rolls over and clicks her small lamp off. Scowling because I wanted to keep working, but knowing that my backside really couldn't handle another flogging, I do the same.

Lying in the darkened room, I feel strange. Silent tears begin to trickle from my eyes as I stare at the wooden slats above me, willing Annabelle to climb down and get into the bed beside me again. She doesn't. I don't know what the fuck's the matter with me, but I lie on my stomach and bury my face into the pillow as I try to silence them.

"_It's sub space, Edward. It's okay to cry. Don't fight it."_ Annabelle whispers, and embarrassed, I try to fight the sobs that escape my chest. I don't fucking cry! What the fuck have they done to me? For the first time in as long as I can remember, I wish my mother was alive. I wish she could be the one to look after me and rock me to sleep. I wish I'd met her. Wouldn't she be proud of my educational achievements?

'_Yes,'_ my conscience pricks, '_but I doubt she would be quite so proud of the life I've chosen to embark on, would she?'_

Craning my ears to make sure that Anna is asleep, I rummage in my bag and despite Carlisle's direct order, I stuff my ear buds in. sighing, I close my eyes and allow my mother's music to wash over me and wrap around me like an auditory blanket. I need her with me to keep me safe tonight.

…..

**Well, there you have it. It's much shorter than usual, I know that, but I was told once too often that my chapters are far too long and that it makes it impossible to concentrate, so as such, I'm chopping them about. I'm getting more than a wee bit fed up of constant carping criticism so I'm doing as I've been asked.**

**I hope you liked this. I know it was strong and hard to read in places. He's so vulnerable and I hate to see him kissing feet and being yelled at, but that's their job. Their job is to teach him how to behave and what is expected of him. He is, after all, a trainee sub who then becomes a powerful dominant so I have to show how he becomes what he is when he meets Bella and the only way I can do that is to show the rough with the smooth. I promise you, it will get much rougher so hold on to your hat! I would have my backside caned on a daily basis because I'm a mouthy moo and can't keep it shut.**

**Let me know what you think as a little word or two gladdens this old harpy's heart.**

**Hugs from the coldest bloody March for fifty years. Brrr!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello!**

**As you are no doubt aware, I've decided to attempt, **_**attempt,**_** to shorten my chapters. I don't hold out much hope, frankly, I have typing diarrhoea and a bit like Pringles, once I start, I can't stop! Anyway, after being told that people struggle to concentrate on my long chapters, I am at least trying but failed miserably. This one is over 21k, so I'm officially giving up trying. If they are too long for you, sorry, but they are what they are, so there!**

…**.**

**JOYCE, LOVE, THIS CHAPTER IS FOR YOU!**

…**.**

**So, my poor little Edward. We're back to find out how he coped after his first serious punishment. He struggled with sub space and the way that the endorphin release relaxes your body and allows emotions you aren't aware of bubble to the surface sneakily. God bless him, of course he wants his mother. She must be a tantalisingly unattainable thing for him to try to deal with, having never even touched her. He should have had someone to lean on and rely on as a child, someone who could help him come to terms with his loss, but of course, there was no one and he had to try to struggle though the tragedy, guilt and confusion all on his own.**

…

**My birthday was 6 April. Walking into the supermarket, the security guard asked if he could have a quick word. He showed me a cat carrier that had been dumped in the car park, containing a mummy and two babies. I now have Dora, mummy, Ottoline and Ronald, the bubs. Ronald is a special needs kitty. He has Swimmers Syndrome which means that his hips aren't properly formed and he has trouble walking because his back legs do their own thing. He is beautiful and gets stronger day by day. Bless him. It will be battle but I will fight it for him. I don't know whether I will keep the other two, I have Jasper and Bernard who have moved in but my son desperately wants Ottoline so it looks like we have gone from zero to five but I'm wavering every single sodding day and they are wearing me down, so, I think it's pretty safe to say that yes, I will be bloody keeping them! I need the bumps on the top of my head feeling!**

…**..**

**Thank you as ever to the beautiful and nurturing Rima2000 and Laura Mars for all their unstinting hard work, without them, there would be no ISS or ECSTD. Love you girls.**

**This story is rated NC17/MA for strong sexual content. It contains graphic scenes of vanilla, slash, femme slash and BDSM scenes and as such, it is NOT for those who find this kind of thing hard to read and cope with.**

**I don't own Twilight, Stephanie Meyer does. I do, however own the plot and story lines and the characters in all ways but their physical descriptions. My babies bear utterly no resemblance to those in Twilight and I don't even see Rob when I write Edward, I see Henry Cavill. Now, the last chapter left Edward an emotional wreck, how on earth will he cope with having emotions that he's never felt before getting dragged up to the surface?**

**Let's see, shall we?**

**NEW DIVIDE**

**CHAPTER 12**

_**I remembered black skies  
The lightning all around me  
I remembered each flash  
As time began to blur  
Like a startling sign  
That fate had finally found me  
And your voice was all I heard  
That I get what I deserve**_

So give me reason  
To prove me wrong  
To wash this memory clean  
Let the floods cross the distance in your eyes  
Give me reason  
To fill this hole  
Connect the space between  
Let it be enough to reach the truth that lies  
Across this new divide

There was nothing in sight  
But memories left abandoned  
There was nowhere to hide  
The ashes fell like snow  
And the ground caved in  
Between where we were standing  
And your voice was all I heard  
That I get what I deserve

So give me reason  
To prove me wrong  
To wash this memory clean  
Let the floods cross the distance in your eyes  
Across this new divide

In every loss  
In every lie  
In every truth that you'd deny  
And each regret  
And each goodbye  
Was a mistake too great to hide  
And your voice was all I heard  
That I get what I deserve

So give me reason  
To prove me wrong  
To wash this memory clean  
Let the floods cross the distance in your eyes  
Give me reason  
To fill this hole  
Connect the space between  
Let it be enough to reach the truth that lies  
Across this new divide  
Across this new divide  
Across this new divide

**Previously:**

**Lying in the darkened room, I feel strange. Silent tears begin to trickle from my eyes as I stare at the wooden slats above me, willing Annabelle to climb down and get into the bed beside me again. She doesn't. I don't know what the fuck's the matter with me, but I lie on my stomach and bury my face into the pillow as I try to silence them.**

"_**It's sub space, Edward. It's okay to cry. Don't fight it."**_** Annabelle whispers, and embarrassed, I try to fight the sobs that escape my chest. I don't fucking cry! What the fuck have they done to me? For the first time in as long as I can remember, I wish my mother was alive. I wish she could be the one to look after me and rock me to sleep. I wish I'd met her. Wouldn't she be proud of my educational achievements?**

'_**Yes,'**_** my conscience pricks, '**_**but I doubt she would be quite so proud of the life I've chosen to embark on, would she?'**_

**Craning my ears to make sure that Anna is asleep, I rummage in my bag and despite Carlisle's direct order, I stuff my ear buds in. sighing, I close my eyes and allow my mother's music to wash over me and wrap around me like an auditory blanket. I need her with me to keep me safe tonight.**

…**..**

The morning arrives much too quickly and blinking, I rub my tired eyes with my knuckles in a bid to wake myself up. For the longest moment, I don't know where I am and as I stare up at the wooden slats above me, I wince at the ache in my neck and backside.

Oh yes.

I was fucked at a peculiar angle and then hit with a hand and something else. No wonder I hurt inside and out.

A movement catches my attention and as I look to the side of me, I can see Annabelle sitting at the desk, scribbling away. I must have been out for the count because I didn't hear her get up and I'm usually a very light sleeper, especially when I didn't get the chance to cum.

Yawning loudly so that she knows I'm awake, I bury my face in my pillow, deciding to have another nap. The material feels odd and pulling back, I look at the cotton and scowl. For some reason, it's damp. No doubt I dribbled in my sleep. Nice. Oh, no, that's not the only reason. Remembering that I'd cried and dreamed about my mother, I feel my cheeks burn. I don't like showing emotion. To me, love and emotion are nothing more than a sign of weakness and as my eyes flash to Anna, I'm grateful that she still doesn't seem to be aware that I'm awake. Shit. I hope I didn't say anything out loud in my sleep. I never discuss my family, especially not my mother, who in my mind is second only to an angel, and my prick of a father.

Fumbling around, I quickly retrieve my iPod and headphones from beneath the pillow and watching Anna closely, I sneak it into the front pocket of my backpack. No one knows that I listen to some of my mother's music every day. It comforts me. I don't know how, but I found a recording of her voice on line when she was being interviewed by the BBC before the last night of the Proms. Listening to it for the first time brought me to my knees. In eighteen years, I'd never considered that I'd be able to hear her voice. It felt as if I was sort of bringing her back from the grave, and I fell apart. It dragged feelings out of me that I never thought I had and that I never wanted to experience again. I didn't leave my flat for three days after I'd found it, and instead, I cried, laughed, smashed things and got drunk as she spoke and giggled on the slightly scratchy recording. I knew for certain then that I would never have a proper relationship with anyone, either male or female because there was no way in heaven that I could survive another bout of extreme emotion.

I was a wreck when Jasper came knocking, worried that he hadn't heard from me for a while. I wouldn't answer the door at first and had been ignoring my phone, but when he brought the concierge up, saying that he thought I'd had an accident, I relented and let him in. We sat on the balcony together, watching London's river and got pissed when I told him what had happened. He sat and hugged me as I cried. I was mortified. I had never behaved like this in front of anyone before and don't remember falling asleep. I woke up in bed with him the next morning, butt naked with his head on my chest. Looking down at his honeyed hair, I sighed and wondered whether we'd fucked or not. He said he would have happily let me fuck him as his Dominatrix was out of town yet again and he had black balls, let alone blue ones, but I'd passed out. It was for the best.

Shit.

Trying to block out any thoughts that might make me emotional in front of her and thus seem weak, I look at Anna and smile. She's naked.

Fuck it.

I can't handle that just now. My poor cock and balls are already fucking sore and this makes them even more painful. As my hands drop to my crotch, I groan as my eyes roam her. She looks so amazing that my serious case of morning wood is exacerbated by the way her skin shimmers in the lemony gold of the early morning light. The way that she's huddled forward shows the faint shadow of several ribs and her more obvious vertebrae. She has a towel wrapped around her head and one around her lower torso and her naked back is dotted with tiny beads of water from having freshly showered. There's a light, lingering scent coming from both her and the slightly ajar bathroom door. This comes from the grapefruit body wash she prefers and she smells delicious. I know she will taste even better. I know this because the memory of her arousal is burned onto my taste buds. My mouth waters and I reach my fingers forward to touch her, but thinking better of it, I pull my hand back and just lay there, watching her study. As she moves, her muscles move beautifully and when I fuck her from behind, they move in much the same way. Especially when I push my thumb into her arse as I thrust into her pussy.

I can't keep thinking like that. My cock still aches from the night before and my poor balls are feeling heavier than they've ever been before and I yank my duvet over my head and wince at the way my skin tightens as I pull my knees up from the beating the night before. Right now, I don't actually know which part of me hurts the most.

Knowing that trying to get back to sleep is futile, I look at the clock next to my bed. The bright green numbers show that it's 7:00 am and I know we have to have breakfast ready and on the kitchen table by 8:00 am, so I stretch, preparing my tired body for the day ahead. Yawning again, I clamber out of bed, palming my painfully hard cock as I do so. It feels peculiarly thick in my hand and looking down, I sigh. I fucking hope they haven't damaged me forever. It does look a slightly odd shape and colour.

Blinking at the rays coming through the window from the much too bright, low lying early winter sun, I squint as I look around me. The room is tidy and orderly once more and the only things lying around belong to me and even that is just a pencil case, my journal and a couple of folders that are splayed out on the floor. Annabelle has put all her things away and made her bed already and despite the fact that she must have heard me moving about, she doesn't acknowledge the fact. Shrugging, I have a shower and just because she can't yell at me for invading her space by stealing her belongings as she usually does, I use her shower gel. And her sponge. I seriously consider using her toothbrush as well, just to be a brat, but change my mind as my OCD sensibilities kick in.

I know we were told that we weren't to talk, but I had expected us to whisper the odd word to one another. Looking at myself in the small mirror, I'm surprised that I'm not bruised worse than I am. There are faint lilac and blue marks and red, raised narrow rectangles with small dots in the centre. Christ knows what she hit me with. My arse in tender but not as painful as I was expecting it to be and after rubbing on some more arnica lotion, I dress in my ridiculous all in one outfit before I make my bed and tidy my college work and journal away.

"_What time do we need to make breakfast? It's eight o'clock, isn't it?"_ I whisper to Annabelle, who is now working on her computer. She doesn't answer me. She doesn't even make any indication that I've spoken to her. Instead, she stands, closes her laptop, drops her towels and quickly braids her hair with her back to me.

My cock shoots up to rest on my belly when I see the faint pale pink and lilac lattice work all over her bottom, upper thighs and lower back. They are definitely raised and the skin is taut and slightly swollen and she must be in some pain. She doesn't show it. I really want to run my fingers over her backside to see if the skin is as hot as it looks, but I somehow manage to resist. The way she's behaving today means that she would definitely dob me in and my own bum is sore enough without a repeat performance from Katy and her big bloody hands.

Muttering to myself, I put my hands over my crotch and sit on the edge of my bed again. Still resolutely ignoring me, Annabelle turns to face me but still refuses to look at me as she pulls on her ludicrous onesie before she leaves the room, closing the door behind her. Nice. She really is ignoring me this morning, isn't she? Right. I'm guessing we're meant to cook now, then? Huh?

Walking behind Anna, I lower my head and eyes and walk downstairs. Half way down, my stomach rumbles loudly as a delicious smell wafts upstairs.

Food. What? We're meant to be cooking, aren't we? God I'm hungry. I have no idea how long we played for last night, it's an odd thing that time seems to stand still and it could be minutes or hours in length, but all I do know is that I was covered in sweat and Carlisle and Anna's cum and was exhausted by the time we'd finished.

"Come in, my darling children!" Katy says brightly, as she turns to grin at me. She's wearing a swan patterned full, frilly apron and the ubiquitous onesie. Her legs are so long that the ankles of her outfit barely reach her calves and she has moorhen shaped slippers on her massively large feet. "I've cooked breakfast for us all today. You were both such good babies for Daddy and me last night that I wanted to make a treat for you both. And I wanted you both to have a more restful morning, my loves."

The scrubbed wooden table in the kitchen is groaning under the weight of croissants, Danish pastries, toast, bowls of muesli, a large dish of sliced fruit and tureens containing a full English breakfast by the smell of it. Christ. I love a proper breakfast. I just don't have it very often. It isn't much fun cooking, and eating, on your own. I like this. I really do. It reminds me of a deviant version of my times with the Whitlocks. My stomach rumbles so loudly, that both of them turn to look at me and even Annabelle chuckles. "Sit down, love," she says, kissing me on my cheek. "You've both earned this. And you must be hungry after the amount of energy you expended last night. I had a good time. I'm glad we make such a great team. Now, come on, sit down and tuck in."

Doing as she tells me, I scarcely do more than grunt for the next twenty minutes as I shovel food down my throat without taking more than the odd breath. I eat a big bowl of muesli with fruit and pouring yoghurt and drink lots of water. Carlisle comes in and ruffles my hair playfully. "Good morning, my gorgeous boy," he says and I grin at him as I push my now empty bowl away and pat my stomach. He piles up a plate with bacon, sausages, black pudding, poached eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, fried bread and beans and places it in front of me. I've never eaten such a massive breakfast in my life and it is absolutely delicious.

"Eat as much as you like, both of you, and you can talk to us, but not to one another as we previously ordered. Please stick to this, Edward," he says, looking at me pointedly.

I guess he was the one outside our room last night. Oh well. Patting the bottom of the bottle of pungent HP sauce, I listen to him as he continues to talk and pours me some orange juice.

Staring at him as I chew my way through a rasher of bacon, I nod in agreement. "Yes, Master Carlisle."

"There will be no more anal play for either of you this weekend so you don't need to eat small, light meals or be subjected to enemas, so enjoy," he says as he tucks into a mountain of food as well. "Annabelle, one rasher of bacon and some scrambled egg is not enough. Be good for your daddy. You, in particular, have a very busy night ahead of you. So please, keep eating."

Anna does? And I don't? Is that what he means?

Huh. Looking down, I fight the urge to get angry and focus on eating instead but can't. I sit and chop the remainder of my breakfast up into tiny little pieces on my plate and scowl at the light as it shines on my cutlery.

"Edward?" Katy asks, "Are you alright?"

"What? Sorry, Mistress? What do you want?" I ask, frowning as I look up.

"You look unhappy, baby, what's the matter?" she asks, staring at me. "Don't you like your food?"

Baby? Why the fuck is she calling me 'baby' when we aren't in the playroom? AND I don't like Carlisle being referred to as Annabelle's fucking 'daddy'!

"Yes, thank you, Mistress. It's delicious," I say after I've swallowed some of the black pudding. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Something's wrong." She says, walking towards me holding a fish slice. Fuck, I hope she doesn't hit me with that! "Tell me what it is, please, and tell me now."

"Um… I just wondered why I wasn't going to be involved tonight. Have I done something else to upset you both?" I ask.

"No, love," Carlisle says. "You've got it wrong. You will definitely be heavily involved tonight but in a very different context to Anna. Get on with your breakfast and I will explain everything to you shortly. Eat up and I will talk."

Straight away, he explains what the rest of the weekend will hold. After breakfast, we're to go upstairs and do some course work whilst they do whatever they need to do in preparation for the party this evening. We are then to shower, exfoliate and epilate everywhere—and I mean everywhere—before we dress in our normal clothes. I didn't have a fucking clue what epilation meant until Katy sniggered at my bewildered expression and she enlightened me. They said that our outfits for this evening were already in our rooms in Runnymede and that for tonight, we would have separate rooms. My heart sinks when she explains that Annabelle is to be Carlisle's play partner to do with as he sees fit tonight and I am to be little more than a gofer.

"I won't be playing?" I ask, scowling. I feel a pang of jealousy as I look over at Annabelle. "At all? Then what's the point in me fucking well going? I could have stayed in bloody Cambridge and got on with my work. I could have fucking hidden away and studied and not wasted my time! What the hell have I done this time?" I demand. Anna cocks her head on the side, not making eye contact with me and smirks at my reaction and outburst. I know she can see the look on my face and after being on the periphery last weekend, I guess she's happy to have her moment in the sun and I can't blame her for that.

"EDWARD!" Carlisle barks. "WHEN YOU SPEAK TO ME, BOY, YOU WILL SPEAK TO ME RESPECTFULLY! ONE MORE OUTBURST AND YOU WILL BE GOING BACK TO CAMBRIDGE. PERMANENTLY!"

"Sorry," I grumble, knowing that I've overstepped the mark. "But I'm disappointed." I sulk. "I thought I'd be playing. I thought you would be demonstrating with me this weekend. Why aren't you?" I sound pathetically petulant even to my own ears and if I was a toddler, I'd be stamping my feet.

"Not this weekend, love," Katy says, "You're very new to this game and you are neither trained nor experienced enough for us to demonstrate with yet. You would struggle to behave in a manner befitting our reputation, Edward. You have at least another four or five months of hard, dedicated, concentrated training ahead of you before we'll even consider doing any kind of demonstration with you. Okay?" she says, smiling. "You aren't going to continue to sulk and be difficult, are you, love?"

Shaking my head, I sigh. I sort of understand why they want to do this because they're in such huge demand and if I fuck up, it really will be a poor reflection on their abilities as teachers. I don't want to embarrass them in any way, but I can't hide my disappointment. If I don't get to play, then I guess I don't get to cum either. "No, Mistress, of course not," I say. "You are my Master and Mistress and it's your decision what you choose to do with my body. I guess I don't have to like it. I just have to accept it, don't I?" I finish, turning to grin at Annabelle. She just continues eating and doesn't crack a smile.

"Well done, Edward!" Carlisle says, "You seem to be learning at last! And you will be performing, in a way. You'll be helping us with things and you will be promenading because we'll most definitely be showing you, and your beautiful face and body, off to our friends and compatriots," he smiles.

Peachy.

Not.

Another night of not having an orgasm is going to fucking kill me. Whatever their rules, I will never last another full week of having no release.

"Was the belt too much for you, Edward?" Katy asks, changing the subject. "I half expected you to yell your safe word at me last night. Well done, you handled it very well, very well indeed. Carlisle and I were discussing it in bed last night and we're both very impressed with how you dealt with your first punishment spanking and belting. How do you feel today?"

"No, it wasn't too much and I didn't even realise that you were using a belt. To be honest, the belting hurt a lot less than your hand did," I say, as I spread marmalade onto a slice of brown toast.

Carlisle bursts out laughing, "I told you she had strong hands, didn't I, Edward?"

"Yes, Master, you did!" I say as I laugh along with him. "But I didn't know quite how strong they were until last night! They certainly brought tears to my eyes!"

When we've finished eating, Carlisle stands up. "Okay, kids, tidy everything away, put the left overs in the fridge and wash the dishes. Then go upstairs and get ready to go. Leave the kitchen and your rooms perfectly tidy, please," he finishes.

The second we all finished eating, Carlisle and Katy leave us alone and head off to their respective offices. Anna and I clean up in silence and to be honest, it doesn't even cross my mind to try to talk to her.

When I'm finished putting the dishes in the cupboard, I wash my hands and head upstairs. Pointing to the bathroom, I sit down and begin to work and let Annabelle do her ablutions first. An hour later, she reappears, scrubbed and shiny and no doubt totally hair free. I have no idea what women do to themselves in a bathroom and why it takes them so long to get ready.

Sighing, I stand up and head off to pluck myself like some fucking Christmas turkey. Katy has left three tubes on the edge of the sink with "_EDWARD. BE A GOOD BOY AND USE THIS_" written on it. Scowling, I unscrew the tube and wince at the horrid smell of urea and ammonia. Reading the instructions, I use the plastic spatula to smear the foul smelling shit all over the hair on my legs, toes, tops of my feet, pubic hair, chest and arm pits. I don't smear it on my balls because I don't know if they could handle this stuff. I empty two tubes. Yeah. I'm a hairy, testosterone raddled bastard. I then prop myself against the sink and read my reference book for ten minutes before I clamber into the shower and rinse it all off using the sharp bit of plastic to scrap the more stubborn bits of now horribly frazzled and melted looking hair.

A light tap on the door makes me jump and almost fall over because the base is slippery and scummy with shed hair and depilatory cream. "Who is it?" I say, as I watch my footing. My arse is throbbing under the hot water and I really don't want to fall over.

"It's your Master, Edward," Carlisle says. "May I come in?"

"Oh course, Sir," I say.

He opens the shower screen and looks me up and down. "Very nice, boy," he says, grinning, "Good job, but I'm guessing you haven't done your crack? And you haven't shaved your face yet? Come on, Edward, hurry up! You know what's expected of you, love!"

Shit. I hadn't even thought about that and looking at him, I purse my lips. He's stripped down to just his underwear. "Sorry. I haven't shaved yet and forgot about my crack. I haven't done my balls yet either, Master. Sorry," I say, scowling.

"Bend over," he says; pulling his boxer shorts off before he climbs into the cubicle with me. "Let me help you." His cock is rock hard and pressed flat against his stomach, with a long thin stream of pre-cum oozing out of the slit.

"Don't you want me to help you with that?" I ask, smiling sweetly as I point to his purple headed erection.

"Behave and do as you're fucking told, before I spank you harder than Katy did and make it impossible for you to get dressed for a week!" he says, laughing as he swats my upper thigh.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you for helping me, Sir," I say, turning around and bending from the waist.

I jump a little bit as Carlisle parts my cheeks and slithers his soapy fingers up and down the crevice making me shiver. "Is that nice, Edward?" he asks as he presses more firmly against my anus.

"Yes… Sir…" I say, as I try to control myself and swallow thickly.

"Hold yourself open for me, please," he says and as I do so, he carefully slides a razor up and down, rendering me hairless once more. "Are you very sore?" he asks as his finger presses against my slightly sore backside. "You're a pretty shade of pink in there and a little bit swollen. Is it uncomfortable to walk?"

"A little," I say, "The strap on was pretty big and solid. It hurt a bit."

"Yes, Katy is very proud of that. She had it made to measure. It's slightly bigger than my cock. She likes using it when I'm away on business. Anyway, I will give you some arnica to put on your bum when we're done here. Okay?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir," I say, sounding as if I'm gargling as my open mouth fills with water.

"What about your bruises?" he asks, stroking his fingers over my left cheek.

"Yes, they hurt a bit too," I say.

"I will bring you some pain relief and water along with the arnica. You should take some arnica tablets tomorrow night. Don't take them for forty eight hours after you have bruising, okay? It can cause internal bleeding and I need to keep you safe. Now… you need to have this lasered…" he says, slightly breathlessly as he cups my balls. "Your balls, pubic area and anus. I like you smooth and it's much more hygienic. I know you don't want to call me your _'daddy,'_ but in the BDSM world, that's how I'm perceived, Edward, and as such, I want my baby boy hairless at all times. I don't want to have to fight my way through your arse hairs before I fuck you! Katy, Anna and I are all lasered. It doesn't hurt much and is permanent. I will email you the details when I go back downstairs and make you an appointment for when you come back to town next Friday, okay?"

I don't like the idea of that. Not at all.

"If you don't mind," I begin, "I would rather not, Sir," I say and upon hearing my words, he squeezes my sac firmly. "I don't mind having my arse lasered, but I don't want the rest done. I will wax them for you regularly, but I don't want to end up an old man with no pubic hair!"

"I suppose that will have to do then," he says, coldly as he stands up and gets the shaving gel. "Lift one foot up and rest it on the soap shelf," he says. Nervously I comply. As he smoothes foam over my balls and carefully shaves them before he scrapes the blade along my lower groin, oddly enough, my erection softens. I guess sheer bloody terror at the thought of being turned into a eunuch would do that to a man! "Make sure that you look after this side of things from now on. I don't even want to see hairs on your forearms, Edward, so remove those too with Katy's cream and then scrub yourself so that your skin is soft. Rub the lotion that is in the cabinet into your skin when you're dry and then get back to your studies," he says. "Now, hurry up and shave as well. I need you clean shaven. You will have to re do it before the party, but I want you to use a hot, wet flannel to open the pores to make it a closer shave right now. Okay? I have to say though, I am disappointed about your attitude towards being lasered," he says as he leaves the cubicle. I nod and he smiles at me. "You are truly beautiful, Edward," he says, as I sigh. "I know you have a problem with being told that for some silly reason, but you are. You look like an angel. Your eyebrows could do with a tidy as well. There are tweezers in the cabinet. Use them. You're a pretty boy, make the most of your God given gifts, for me."

I close my eyes as he leaves the shower. Pretty? AGAIN? Why can't people just leave me alone and stop bloody well calling me that? Fucking hell! I'm going to look like a deviant Shirley Temple this weekend if I have to do anything else to myself. What next? Sponge rollers in my bloody hair? Ugh! I don't want to be fucking beautiful or even worse, pretty. I want to be fuck hot and irresistible. I watch as he washes his hands, wraps himself in a towel and leaves the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

Bollocks. He's disappointed in me again. Well, I'll keep myself neat and tidy as he's asked but I really don't want to be cleanly shaven forever, I really don't.

Climbing out, I go through the smelly cream rigmarole on my arms, once more reading whilst it does its thing. I then scrub my skin with a harsh hessian mitt to soften my skin as he's demanded. I wince as my skin burns under the hot water and my backside aches more than ever. Carlisle returns as I'm swilling the scum down the drain and leaves a tube of arnica on the window ledge.

"Please bring it with you to the other house. It will help, love," he says.

Climbing out of the shower, I roll my eyes when I look at myself in the mirror. All the epilation and exfoliation, not to mention the too hot water, has left me looking like a lobster. I don't like it but even I have to admit that my body looks and feels much better when I rub the scent free lotion in afterwards. I stand at the mirror and tip my head back, balancing a scaldingly hot flannel over my whole face. When it's cooled a little, I carefully shave, his tone of disappointment lingering unpleasantly in the air. I rub the lotion into my face and towel dry my slightly too long hair, making a mental note to have a haircut some time during the upcoming week as I smear the arnica gel over my aching arse hole.

Pulling on my ridiculous onesie again, I use a good scoosh of deodorant and I smile as I brush my teeth and attempt to tame my nutty hair with some hair putty. However awful these outfits look, they feel surprisingly comfortable and when I wear it, I feel at home, stupid, I know. I busy myself, cleaning the shower and sink, and put everything away.

Leaving the now pristine, but steamy bathroom, I acknowledge the fact that I was absent for the same length of time as Annabelle and now know why she was MIA for so long.

Sitting at my part of the desk, I guzzle half a large bottle of water and open up my computer. The morning flies by as I bury my head in my books. I sit next to Annabelle at our desk with my iPod blaring out U2 as I rattle through my notes, essays and some research on a case that the Black Widow had mentioned. Tapping away on my lap top, I'm lost in my work when someone touches me on my shoulder and feeling slightly light headed due to the fact that I've been concentrating so hard, I spin in my seat and yank my head phones off.

Katy is standing behind me, scowling.

"Sorry, Mistress," I say, "I wasn't paying attention. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, love," she says, "It's just it's time to get dressed and come downstairs. You two are preparing lunch whilst Carlisle and I get the car packed. You've got five minutes to get changed and go to the kitchen. And weren't you told something about no music?"

"Oh, forgive me, Mistress," I say, "I thought that was just for last night? I didn't realise you meant today too. I'm sorry. In future I will ask permission."

"That's okay, love," she says, patting my arm, "I should have said something. It's fine. As long as you behave yourself and do as we tell you, you can have your iPod when you are off duty for the weekend, okay?"

"Thank you, Mistress," I say, smiling brightly.

Looking beside me, Annabelle has disappeared. I was focussing so hard on my work that I didn't even notice her leave. Shit. My obsession with work is going to be a problem for me, I can feel it.

"Where's Anna?" I ask, confused.

"She's already downstairs. You were working so hard that we decided to leave you for an extra half an hour. She's already begun lunch so you have less to do. She's a good girl and she's very fond of you, you know? Do yourselves a favour and keep it as a friendship from now on, Edward, and you will both be far easier for us to train. Okay? What you do to, and with one another, when you leave our auspices is entirely up to you, but you know what you mean to my husband and he doesn't need any more stress. Yes?" she asks, smiling as I stand and strip off my clothes.

"Yes, Mistress. I'll try harder. I promise you," I say as I pull on a clean pair of tight, white boxer shorts.

"My goodness," she says, looking flustered, "You do fill a pair of pants well. It's a pity that you can't walk around like that all the time. You certainly make my day!" she chuckles before she turns and leaves the room.

Grinning to myself, because my cock always seems to kill a conversation, I drag on socks, black jeans, black Nike trainers and a black t-shirt before I comb my hair. I shove everything into my back pack, including my lap top and folders and after tidying my desk, I leave the room and run downstairs to where Anna is waiting for me.

The kitchen smells lovely and is steamy as Anna stands over the sink, draining something. She's wearing a pair of skinny jeans and has a simple, pale grey hooded sweatshirt on. There are a pair of tatty canvas trainers on her feet and her hair is pulled up in a sloppy ponytail. She looks very young and sort of vulnerable and I walk forwards feeling that I need to protect her is some silly way. Hearing me behind her, she turns to look at me as I stand and stare. Without saying a word, she looks away immediately as she busies herself. A pan of pasta sauce is bubbling away on the stove and the kitchen table is set for four. It doesn't look like there's much left to do so I fill a jug with ice and water, adding slices of lime and lemon and put that and glasses onto the table.

Anna points at a grater and some parmesan and I take the hint, grating it whilst she tosses the spaghetti in the meaty sauce.

As she piles it into four large, white pasta dishes, I quickly throw together a green salad and slice some course brown bread, placing it on a platter.

Sitting at the table, we all tuck in to the wonderful bolognaise and chat away. Anna and I don't speak to one another but we do speak to Carlisle and Katy and as we look at one another briefly, I realise how much harder ignoring her is than I thought it would be. She's my friend and I like talking to her. I comfort myself knowing that we have just over six days left until we can converse once again.

"Tidy everything away, and wash up, please," Katy says, "And then get your things from your room so that we can head off as soon as Carlisle has finished in his study. You have half an hour," she says, firmly.

Once we've cleaned up, I tug on my thick, Northface padded black jacket and my slouchy black beanie hat. We then climb into Carlisle's black Audi estate car, after stowing our bags in the back. There seems to be a huge amount of luggage in there considering we're only going for a day and a bit but I don't say anything. Katy bollocks Anna out for crushing her carefully shaped napkins and I snigger as I do up my seat belt.

Before we've even hit the Hammersmith flyover, I'm fast asleep, lulled by Carlisle's choice of classical music and the low lulling hum of their chatting voices. To anyone else, we must look like a family going on a trip and in many ways, that's what we are. But, of course, not in the conventional way and my sleep is punctuated by internal ramblings.

It's a peculiar feeling being here with them all, I feel like I belong. I felt that with the Whitlocks and Riley and Jace, but oddly, this is different. To the rest of the world what we have is dark and strange. To the four of us, it's perfectly normal. And despite the fact that my backside hurts like hell from being both fucked and beaten, I feel safe and looked after. I also understand fully, for the first time, why people belong to this world. Those who like to look after, get to do so. Those who want to hand all responsibility over to another can do that without question. Right now, I don't know which one I am, however much I enjoy being with them, I already know that this isn't going to be what I want to do forever. My career is far more important to me, I know this already.

"_He's a good kid, Katy,"_ I hear as I start to wake up. My eyelids flutter and I force them to close so that I can listen to their conversation. "_I know he's strong-willed, but you know what? I like that. I know as time goes on that will settle down. Well… I hope it will. The poor little sod will be permanently scarred if you belt him like that too often. I know he's wilful and defiant, but I don't want to knock it out of him completely. I like the fire he has in his belly."_

"_You don't usually like that. You normally make me punish them for any little infringement they make and like to break their spirit. I don't understand you, Carlisle,"_ she says. "_You're a tough dominant, darling, and you usually give no lee way at all. You like total compliance, obedience and deference, what's so special about him?"_ she asks.

I keep my eyes closed and shift a little bit so that Annabelle's dribbling mouth moves away from my bare arm. When we've been asleep, she's wrapped herself around me, despite the orders they've given us about no contact. Wincing slightly as her drool trickles down my neck, I try to stay as still as possible so that I can listen to their conversation.

"_I don't know, Katy. And that's the truth, darling,"_ he mutters. "_But from the first time I saw him, there was something… something… special. Something unique. When I touched him at the club, I knew I had to possess him. I really don't know how to explain what it is about him. Oh, he's the best looking boy I've ever seen and his cock is just fucking brilliant. But 'special' doesn't even begin to cover it. I like him, in fact, I like him a lot. Too much, I think…"_

"_I know you do,"_ she says, almost too quietly for me to hear.

"_Do you think we'll manage to control them both without having to let one of them go? I am fond of them both and don't want to let either of them go. Can we do this? We've never had this problem before. Why now?"_ he asks.

"_I hope so, Carlisle,"_ she continues, "_Because we would be keeping Annabelle. I mean it. You'd have to say goodbye to the boy. I couldn't devastate her by choosing Edward over her. She already knows that you have stronger feelings for him than you do for her. It makes her sad and I don't like seeing her distressed. Her behaviour last weekend showed that she is acutely aware of your feelings. As am I… I feel a little surplus to requirements myself at times, love. I've never felt like this before. You look at him as if no one else exists. Be careful, husband. Don't take it too far. I allow you a huge amount of freedom with our submissives, please bear that in mind and don't push me to beyond what I'm comfortable with. Okay?"_

"_Yes… I know I'm walking dangerous ground at the minute, Katy. I know I am… I just don't know how to stop it." _he says, sounding confused.

"_I suggest you find a way. I really do, Carlisle. And whilst we're talking, I need you to promise me that you won't lose it again like you did last night. You came across as a jealous lover when you caught those two having a quick grope. Not a fucking dominant, be careful, you're getting far too involved with that boy. Remember, something. They're teenagers. They're incredibly young. You and I were no better. Master Roderick used to whip us both soundly for fucking without permission. Maybe we used cut them a little bit of slack?" _she says.

Oh shit. Annabelle is jealous of Carlisle and me when we play. I, of course, had guessed as much but I'm really fond of her and don't want to cause her any upset. And I feel even more uncomfortable knowing that Katy knows her husband has feelings for me and that she's struggling with quite how much he likes me. And I don't like it. I don't like it at all.

"_No. No way am I doing that! If they misbehave, they will face the consequences of my wrath. I want to make them both toe the line, Katy,"_ he says brusquely, "_And after yesterday, Edward seems to be trying much harder. Let's give them both a little more time to adjust. I do like him but I won't ever let anything come between you and me. You are my life. My whole life, baby…"_

I can hear a soft sound as if they are kissing, but as we're driving at speed, it's unlikely, he might have been kissing her fingers.

"_Yes, I think you're right, darling. Let's see how things go, but cut down the jealousy angel. Really. Being a jealous bitch doesn't suit you. Okay? Remember, he really listened to us last night and this morning and he seems to have had a mind-set change overnight. Let's give it another couple of months and see what happens."_ She says. "_But I also think we should stop talking about this now, he's waking up. I can see him moving. I don't want to upset either of them."_

The CD player is switched on and the Rolling Stones sing out 'Paint it Black' much too loudly, thus rendering my ear wigging attempts futile.

Annabelle shifts next to me and her head slips down to rest on my crotch. Great. The second I look down and watch as she sucks her thumb, I have an instant hard on, and groan. Sighing, I sit up and push her away from me.

"Hello, sleepyhead," Carlisle says, turning in his seat and smiling at me. Katy smiles at me in the rear view mirror as I stretch and yawn.

"Hey," I say, thickly, grateful of the offered bottle of water. "Sorry, I was really tired."

"That's fine, love," he says, "It's going to be a very late night so it's a good thing that you've both caught up on some sleep. I see Miss Narcolepsy is still out for the count! Bless her; she could sleep over a clothes line! Did you know, she fell asleep when I had her hung from chains in the dungeon before? I turned around to get the lube after a looooong session, and when I returned to her, she was snoring! I should have paddled her arse for that but I didn't have the heart too, bless her. She looks like a little bat, hanging as she was. Well… she would have if she hadn't been dripping cum everywhere! Anyway, you've never been to a play party before and it can be overwhelming at first, so I'm glad you managed to have a nap. Tell me, boy, how are you feeling? How is your backside? Inside and out?"

"Actually, I'm feeling much better now," I say honestly as I stretch as much as I can in the warm car and rotate my neck. "I ache a bit but not in a bad way. It feels good now. I like the way the bruising feels now that I've got my jeans on."

"Good boy!" Carlisle says appreciatively as Annabelle rubs her scalp. "I'm sure Katy will give you plenty more where that came from if you continue to defy us!" Turning to look at Anna, I snigger. Her hair is all over the place, despite the fact that it's still plaited. Bits are sticking out from the tight braids and it looks as if she's had her fingers in an electric socket. She glowers at me and rubs her eyes with the knuckles of both her hands. "Sleep well, baby?" Carlisle asks her.

"Yes, thank you, Master," she says quietly as she glowers at me. Hmm… I have a feeling she might have been listening too…

We suddenly turn right through some high, double electronic gates and drive along a rough gravel road. The crunch beneath the tyres somehow cranks up my nerves and staring out of the window, my eyes roam the woods on either side of the vehicle. I catch sight of something that I swear is a set of antlers but shake my head thinking I'm imagining things. Eventually, we park in front of a large, sprawling house.

The huge sweeping drive that leads up to the front door of the massive house is a bit of a shock. Everything is perfectly manicured and elegant and is the total antithesis of their at odds minimalist and eclectic London home.

"This belonged to my grandparents," Carlisle explains, grinning at my furrowed brow. "Katy and I have kept it as it was, other than refitting the kitchen, bathrooms and improving the heating and security systems. And, of course, we turned the basement into a state of the art BDSM dungeon," he says, squeezing my fingers. "It's far and away superior to the one we have in London. Wait until you see what we have there… and what we have planned for you tonight, baby boy…"

"I can't wait, Master," I say, clutching onto his hand as both nerves and excitement fight for dominance.

"Do you like it?" Carlisle asks as we begin unpacking the car.

Before I can answer, a loud screech makes me jump and spinning around, I come face to beak with a peacock with its huge tail fanned out before me. As my eyes widen, several more strut passed, as well as a couple of their dowdy female mates.

"You've got peacocks?" I ask, staring at him, gobsmacked.

"My mother loved them. We've got all sorts here. Guinnea fowl, pheasants, pigs, sheep, cows, horses, rare ducks, geese and hens as well as deer, it's a veritable menagerie so, you name it, we have it! My grandparents had them for hunting, but my mother was a vegetarian and wouldn't allow it once she moved in. They do their own things. We just provide board and lodgings for them!" he laughs, "And they strut about, shitting all over the manicured, perfect bloody grass!"

So I didn't imagine the antlers then?

A butler appears along with a young guy wearing black trousers, a white shirt and a waistcoat. Fuck. They have staff? Jesus… I wasn't expecting this.

"So, do you like it, Edward?" he asks again.

"It's lovely," I say honestly, looking around me. The entire place smacks of 'old money' and shows that however new Katy might be to this world, the dear Doctor Hale is definitely not nouveau riche.

The building is huge, but only three stories high. It's painted a creamy white and has wooden highlights. A massive window sits above the entrance and encompasses the two upper floors. Its leaded panes glint in the early winter sun and it looks beautiful.

"Thanks," he says, "I'm rather fond of it too actually. My great grandfather commissioned Edwin Lutyens to build it in the early nineteen twenties and it's been in the family ever since. Chancer here has lived here all his life, haven't you?" he asks the butler who nods and smiles. "His father was my father's butler and his grandparents worked for my grandparents, and now Tom, his son, is learning the ropes to take over one day, aren't you?" he says, smiling at the younger man.

"Yes, Sir," they say in unison.

"Chancer is actually more like the estate manager who helps out with his butler skills when we have events here and again, Tom will do the same." Carlisle says, smiling at the younger man.

"Is it empty most of the time?" I ask, scowling, thinking about the ten bedroom house that sits at the top of Highgate Hill that I haven't set foot in for more than an hour at a time since I was twelve years old. All that space going to waste seems immoral really, and I wonder if perhaps I should visit and think about selling it. But then again, it was my mother's last home… but it's much too big for me to live in on my own. Surely?

"Yes, sadly," Carlisle says, dragging my focus back to him, "but we do come down here a lot, and far more in the winter months oddly enough. We have parties at least once every month so you'll get to know it quite well. The woods are beautiful. We have a lovely wild flower meadow and there are a couple of lakes and even a river. It was built for nothing but the pursuit of pleasure. Fishing, hunting, walking, picnicking, swimming and boating. So you see, Edward, my grandfather had an idyllic childhood living here."

"Yes, so it would seem," I say, lugging three bags into the impressive hallway.

"Sir!" the younger man yells, "Please, allow me to help you!"

"It's fine," I say, turning to smile at him. "I can manage. I don't need any help, but thanks anyway."

Smiling at him, I notice that he's staring at me and as I raise an eyebrow, he blushes brightly and looks down.

Oh…

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yes, yes, Sir, sorry, Sir…" he mumbles and shuffles about where he stands.

Okay… so it's like that, is it?

"Tom," Carlisle says looking at me and then back at the other guy several times. "Take Master Cullen to his room, please. And show Miss Smith to hers as well. Then when they're ready, please bring them back down and direct them to us in the drawing room."

"Yes, Sir," he responds. "Come this way, please," he says, directing us forwards.

Smiling, we say goodbye to Carlisle. Katy has her head in the back of the car and she waves one hand up in the air. Pursing my lips at Tom, I try not to chuckle as he stumbles over one of the bags as we follow him inside. It's cruel to tease him or encourage him, but I can't help it. I love the chase, sadly the catching rarely lives up to my expectations, and anyway, I'm no longer free to indulge in meaningless fucking with total strangers.

The hallway is massive and is clad in oak panelling. A large, bronze, candelabra style chandelier hangs from the ceiling and a roaring fire burns in the grate. The floor comprises of huge flag stones covered with huge intricately patterned rugs scattered here and there. It is beautifully proportioned and almost simple in its decoration. The designer obviously followed William Morris' adage that nothing was to be in a home that wasn't of use or beautiful. My eyes roam the cavernous space as Tom leads us to the first floor. Annabelle disappears around a corner, already knowing her way to her room and I'm lead to the far end of the corridor. "In here, Master Cullen," he says.

Turning to smile at him, I walk into a large, warm room. A double bed sits opposite a large, lit fireplace and there are thick rugs on the wooden floor and heavy curtains at the windows. It's a lovely room. It's warm, comfortable and totally different to the small, sparse and clinically simple room that Anna and I share in London. I like it here. There are shelves of books and a large desk with a twisty, padded, dark green leather chair and I can imagine spending many an hour sitting here, studying.

"Would you like a few minutes to unpack your things, Sir, or would you like to return to Dr and Mrs Hale straight away?" Tom asks.

"I think I'll return to Doctor and Mrs Hale, thank you, Tom," I say. "I don't have to get ready yet and I would like a drink of water. I can find my own way, if you have things to do?"

"No. No," he says, shaking his head and staring at me, "No. Master Carlisle instructed me to return you to his side, and I intend to do just that."

"Fine. Lead the way!" I say chuckling.

"Very well," he says nodding, as he holds his arm out to guide me.

Without saying much, he leads me to the drawing room where Carlisle, Katy and Anna are sitting chatting and having afternoon tea. There are tiny sandwiches, scones with jam and cream, fruit cake, hot crumpets with pats of butter and dishes of several kinds of conserve and a Victoria sponge on the table and despite the fact that I've eaten two huge meals already today, my stomach rumbles.

"Edward, darling," Katy says, standing to kiss me on the cheek, "Come and sit with us and have something to eat."

"Thank you, Tom," Carlisle says, smiling at the other boy. "We'll call you if we need you. Okay? Oh, before you leave, how are the preparations for this evening coming along?"

"Very well, thank you, Sir," Tom responds. "The dungeon is ready and I followed your instructions carefully. The caterers will be here at 6:30 pm and the special lighting was fitted yesterday. The floral arrangements are in place and the ones for the entrance hall will be moved there shortly. All equipment is laid out ready for your inspection and I drove up to London to collect the two machines from Master Caius's club yesterday. They have been sanitised and are set up in a small alcove. It's slightly different to the way my father usually sets up the dungeon, but I have tried one or two new things. I've moved the specialist area to another alcove and there are several fans wafting rosemary, rose and pheromones around the space. I hope you will be satisfied with what I've done, Sir," he says, calmly.

"This is Tom's first night where he is in charge of one of our little gatherings, Edward," Carlisle says, "His parents usually run them for us but we are giving Tom his first taste of responsibility and we are very much looking forward to enjoying the fruits of his labour. Tom, tell me, did you manage to get the fucking machines ready in time?" Carlisle asks. "And did the double ended dildos arrive? We ordered from a new distributor this time, Annabelle, I know you weren't keen on the last ones, so I'm hoping everything is ready?" he asks Tom again.

I splutter a mouthful of tea. Tom can't be more than in his early twenties. Is there anyone in their lives that doesn't know about their supposedly hidden world?

"Everything is ready, Sir. Everything. The fucking machines are in the large alcove at the end of the dungeon and both have been specially lit, as requested. Perhaps when you are suitably refreshed, you might permit me to show you the slight alterations I've made to the usual arrangements?"

"I have to say, I'm slightly in awe of you, Tom. For having the balls to make alterations to my well known and carefully organised plans. Well, well, well, Tom, my boy," Carlisle says, standing up and clapping him on the shoulder, "Good for you! Showing initiative already? I am impressed. Come on, let's go," he says, draining his cup. He shoves a small éclair into his mouth and putting his arm around Tom's shoulders, they both leave the room.

"Why don't you two go upstairs and have another shower? And make sure you are both totally hair free," Katy says. "Your outfits are hanging in your wardrobes, Chancer had them cleaned so they are ready for you and you have a couple of free hours to explore the house or do some work, whatever you decide. The attics are fascinating but I must ask that you don't go near the dungeon and get under Tom and Chancer's feet. Okay? Now, be good for me and off you go." She demands.

Dammit. I was halfway through my second cream filled scone.

Nodding, I finish my tea and stuff the scone into my mouth, grabbing a slice of fruit cake with me, Anna and I leave the room at the same time and climb the huge staircase in absolute silence. She goes her way, I go mine and I have no idea what her plans are.

I decide to work.

Of course I do, but first of all I have a bath, a hot flannel shave and ensure that I'm hairless.

Sitting down, I smile at the pile of work that I've brought with me. I have a feeling that from now on I will choose to work and study over anything else, even over having sex and most certainly spending time with friends or the Muswell Hill Billy. Scowling to myself, I open up my lap top on the bone and mother of pearl inlaid, elaborate desk in my room and stare at it as it warms up. Fuck. My mother's face stares at me from the screen and I frown. I'm turning into my father after all. I wonder how she would feel about that knowledge? She loved my father, the few people who have spoken about her said so, but she had to be aware of how indifferent and callous he was. To me, he was nothing but a cold bastard who was unable to show affection and now knowing that work will be my one true life's passion, I cringe inwardly. It would seem that the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree after all, does it?

A knock on the door makes me turn around. "Come in," I say, looking up.

"Master Cullen, Sir?" Tom says, "Mrs Hale wanted me to tell you that it's time for you to eat a light supper and to get changed for the evening's festivities. Your outfit is in your wardrobe, waiting for you. I hope its satisfactory, and your shoes, I saw to them myself, personally," he says. He blushes and looks down at my crotch as he places a tray on the table next to me.

What the fuck? He's looking at my cock? Shit. Looking up at him, I smirk and lick my lips. I knew he fancied me earlier, he didn't even try to hide it, but I didn't think he'd be this obvious because he works for Katy and Carlisle.

Giving him the once over, I smile at him. He isn't bad looking. He's tall and a little too slender for my liking with dark reddish brown, hair and shocking blue eyes with thick black lashes. Yes, I even notice eyelashes. That might not be very manly, but I like nice eyes. Usually, I'm attracted to older, more solid looking men since my time with Riley, but seeing the flush on his face, I look down and see that the poor bugger has a hard on underneath his black gabardine trousers. Okay then…

"Thank you very much, Tom," I say, giving him my brightest smile. Jacinta said that when I smiled at her like that, the elastic on her knickers exploded, so I think I might start using it more often. Scowling gets tiresome at times. In response to my smile, he drops the napkin just as he goes to place it over my lap.

"Oh… Master Cullen…" he says. "I'm so… um… sorry…" he says as he bends down and places it on my lap a little too firmly. His fingers brush against my own erection and I look up at him and grin playfully at the look of abject horror etched on his pale face.

"And what am I having for my light supper, Tom?" I smile.

"Um… oh… er…" he stammers, staring at me intently as he pulls his fingers away. "Um… my mother made… um… it's a vegetable and chicken… er… risotto… um…"

"Thank you very much, it smells delicious," I say, trailing my fingers over the back of his hand. He gasps, and allowing my hand to linger on his, I squeeze gently. Sex is, after all, only sex and if he fancies me, I might as well flirt a little bit. Why not? It won't lead anywhere and I might as well play now because I won't be fucking playing later on. "And thank you for taking care of my outfit, I'm sure it will be perfect," I say, smiling once again.

Staggering backwards, he runs his hands through his hair and swallows thickly, "Thank you, Mister, er… Master… um… er… oh God… um…"

"Call me Edward," I say, grinning. "I'm just _'Edward.'_ I'm not Mister or Master anything, Tom. Unless Doctor and Misses Hale object, I would rather you called me by my first name. I was '_Cullen'_ at school, and I've never felt comfortable with being called Mister or Master, okay? You can sit in here and sneak a five minute break if you want to. You must be tired. I'm guessing you won't get an early night with all the screams and yells that will be coming from the basement tonight, will you?"

Blushing the colour of beetroot, he backs away from me. He fumbles with the door handle and nodding, he dashes away.

Laughing quietly to myself, I pick at the risotto as I continue with my studies. I know I'm a fucker but I can't help myself. I love to tease and torment and always did. I guess that stems from my days at Eton.

Putting my fork down, I start making detailed notes. The Black Widow had mentioned a fascinating case of a serial killer who managed to avoid detection for decades in Russia. The mistakes and errors made by the KGB and the police were so awful that they allowed a further twenty people to be killed and tortured before he was caught. It seems that he even cannibalised some of his innocent victims. Reading the court transcripts took my breath away when I'd started reading them on Friday morning, and I wanted to finish them and write an essay on the subject before my next lecture with her on Tuesday.

When the clock over the fireplace chimes, I jerk upright, confused, not sure where I am for a few moments. A noise behind me makes me turn around. Tom is piling coal and logs onto the dwindling fire.

"You need to hurry up, Sir… I mean Edward… sorry," he says, "Doctor and Mrs Hale are already downstairs, and want you and Miss Annabelle to help them greet their guests. Would you… um… you are… a little… um… late… I think? Um… like me to help you… um… get changed? Mrs Hale told me to help you. She says we have twenty minutes and that you are to put your books away and empty your head of anything but them until tomorrow morning. You didn't eat? Wasn't it to your liking? Shall I fetch you a sandwich? You'll be hungry later on."

Saving my work, I close my laptop. I grin at him and stand up as I take a mouthful of water. "Yes, it was delicious but I got caught up in my work. Katy wants you to help me get dressed?" I say, quirking my eyebrow. I know she's testing me. I can sense it and smiling; I shake my head and close my folders. "Why not?" I ask. "I don't want to keep the good doctor and his lovely wife waiting, Tom, now do I?"

He almost breaks his neck rushing to my wardrobe and drags out my costume.

"Oh fuck…" I groan. "They have GOT to be kidding me!" I say as I reach out and touch the white feathers.

"No. No," Tom says, "Miss Anna has the same outfit, but in black and I took a lot of time making sure every feather was clean and smooth. Did I do something wrong?" he asks, scowling.

"No…" I sigh, "I'm sure you took a lot of time and effort over it, Tom. But I fucking don't want to wear it. Shit…" I say, knowing that I don't have a choice as I pull my t-shirt over my head. "I'm going to look like a fucking ugly duckling."

"I don't think you'll look like that…" Tom mumbles. "I think…"

"Really, Tom?" I ask as I wander into the bathroom and start to clean my teeth. "What do you think I'll look like?" I tease as I spit out a foamy mouthful.

Tom stumbles a little bit and almost trips over the wings.

"Is something the matter?" I ask, laughing.

"Um…" Tom says, staring at me, ignoring my question as I return to my bedroom. "Let me… um… help you… Sir…" he says, breathlessly as he kneels down and unbuttons and unzips my jeans.

My cock is rock hard and flat against my belly before I even take a second breath. He gasps as I shimmy my trousers and boxers off and kick them across the room.

"I don't believe it…" he says, wide eyed and stunned.

"What's the matter?" I ask, nonchalantly putting my head on the side.

"_Holy fuck… I've… I've… never… fuck… Please let me touch you… please…"_ he whispers. His fingers twitch as he reaches towards my erection. "Please… so fucking big… so… Christ…"

"You can't, Tom," I say, stepping back. "You know what I am, don't you? You know that this would mean that I've committed a serious infringement in the rules. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes… I do. I don't understand why you are… but I… I…" he stammers. "Why are you? You're so lovely… you could have anyone. Why are you one? Please, Edward… please…" he all but whimpers.

"Tom. They'll kill me if I let you touch me… after they've dealt with you first," I say as my resolve starts to slip away. How much harm could one small touch do? Huh? They all got to cum the night before. I haven't cum for ten days and I feel like I'm about to explode. With what I'm about to witness, surely one little grope couldn't do much harm. Could it?

"Please…" he whimpers, staring at my erection and he moves in times with it. It looks like he's hypnotised. My cock. The snake charmer…

"Okay…" I say, forgetting what I've agreed to. "You can touch me once. Once, Tom. No more than that and make it quick. We haven't got much time. And don't even think about trying to make me fucking well cum… you can taste me but not blow me properly. I'm not allowed to cum… unless they say so… you know that… right?" I continue as his finger trails above my fluid filled slit before he snaps his hand away without making contact.

"Get on with it, Tom!" I say impatiently. "Come on!"

"Sorry…" he says before he repeats his actions and then brings his index finger to rest on my arousal. "What do I do now?" he asks, looking up at me with dilated eyes.

"You stroke me and then you taste me…" I say, and I shake my head because my fucking voice has deepened several decibles.

"Oh God… Edward…" he groans loudly as he stops and stares at his fingers.

"I'll be caned if they find out about this so keep fucking quiet…" I say, looking up towards the closed door and praying that they don't come marching in to see a member of their staff touching my fucking member. "A quick fumble isn't worth me losing those three, you know so fucking hurry up!"

"I've never… um… you know…" he whispers. "I've wanted to… of course… but… I'm… um… oh…" he mutters. "I… I... I don't know what… um… I don't know… how…"

"Are you a virgin?" I ask, frowning. "Haven't you been with a boy or a girl before?"

"No. I haven't. Pathetic aren't I?" he says, blushing. "I'm twenty three years of age and I've never even kissed anyone… I'm… um… shy… and I just didn't want anyone… um_… until now…"_ he whispers.

"Are you gay?" I ask quietly as I lean down and stroke his hair.

"Yes, Sir, I am." He nods.

"How do you know if you haven't been with a boy or a girl?" I ask, scowling. It never crossed my mind before that if you were gay or straight you would just know. I think I'm straight but I don't really care either way. I enjoy sex with girls more but I am almost as happy with a boy.

Shrugging, I tug his hair, forcing him to look at me. "Suck me…" I say, "If you want to touch me, just do it, Tom. Do it…"

"Are you gay?" he asks.

"No. I'm not. I'm just me. I like boys. I like girls. I've been with both and I like both. Now, if you want to taste me, Tom, do it. It isn't rocket science to begin with. Use your tongue. Open your mouth and suck me. Hurry up."

Not needing telling again, he pokes his tongue out and takes a long, languid lick of my wet head. "Oh God…" he mutters before he opens his mouth and sucks me inside. His mouth is warm and wet but his movements are naïve, jerky and clumsy. But I give him ten out of ten for bravery and excitement as his tongue laps at me frantically and he groans, hanging onto my bare cheeks tightly, slurping and sucking like a starving man.

Grinning, I pull away. It's okay but not great and to be honest, since I was fifteen years of age, I was used to getting pretty good blow jobs. I'm not sure that I'm really interested in teaching someone how to give one.

Who am I trying to kid? The thought of bossing this man around and telling him what to do to me is actually quite entrancing and frowning to myself, I step further back suddenly aware of what I'm risking for a quick fondle.

"Enough, Tom. That's quite enough. I'm expected downstairs," I say, turning away from him and bend down as I wrestle my way into the uncomfortable feather covered thong. Ugh.

"Oh… sorry… yes, of course. Sir. Let me… um…" he mutters as he straightens up the strings across the top of my arse cheeks. He lets his fingers slide across my skin before he trails his hand up and over my pectorals. "You're so… so pretty… was I really bad? Didn't you like what I did?" he mumbles, embarrassed.

Fuck it.

Huffing, I step away from him as he holds the wings out for me to put on.

"I'm not fucking pretty…" I grumble. "I'm a man, Tom, not a fucking girl! And you did just fine. It's nothing to do with you, I have to get downstairs before they come looking for me."

"Well," he says, smiling at me before he leans in and has the audacity to kiss me on my forehead. "I think you're pretty."

I swat him with my fingers and move my arms about in a futile attempt to get comfortable despite the irritating way that the quills of the feathers dig into my flesh. He smiles at me and then drops to his knees and helps me put on the most ludicrous pair of gold sandals I've ever seen. They look like something the Centurions wore, well if they'd frequented the fucking Moulin Rouge or Follies Bergere, and they lace all the way up my calves, criss crossing as they do so.

"Fuck me…" I groan as I stare at them. They are the most ridiculous things I've ever seen. They make the rest of the costume seem perfectly normal and I'm going to be the laughing stock of this damn party. I could ring Katy's eccentric neck for this.

"No…" Tom responds, looking up at me like a love struck sheep, "No… you look amazing and just so you know… I'd rather you fucked me…"

"What?" I say, stunned, as he looks up at me.

"I want you to fuck me… please?" he says. "I want to learn, Edward and I want you to be the one to teach me."

"Tom…" I say, stroking his hair, and my cock twitches at the thought of being buried inside of him. "You know what goes on in this house. You know I can't do that, don't you? I belong to Katy and Carlisle. I've signed my body over to them to do with as they see fit. I can't let you touch me again. You must have seen them with other submissives before me. You have to have?"

"Yes…" he murmurs as he stands up. "I know what you are to them. And I know that you can't, but it doesn't stop me wanting you to, does it? The Master and Mistress would sack me and probably my parents too if you did. We live here and work here. Master Carlisle is a generous and kind boss. We have a lot to lose. But it still doesn't mean I wouldn't risk it."

"It's not going to happen," I sigh, tugging his hair a little bit as I try to move him out of my way. "They would know. You wouldn't be able to hide what we'd done. You're an innocent and I remember the first blow job I got, and gave. I walked around like the cat that got the cream for days. It just can't happen. You know they would never allow it."

"Have you come on to any of their other submissives?" I ask, frowning as I watch his eyes moving over my bare chest.

"God, no!" he gasps out. "I've never been interested in making a pass at anyone before! But the second I saw you… shit. Do you know? The sun caught your hair and it looked like you had a halo on, Edward? I couldn't take my eyes off you. Even Dad bollocked me out for not being respectful enough towards Master Carlisle and his guests."

"I'm no fucking angel, Tom," I say as I smooth the large feathers at the bottom of my wings, ensuring that they lie flat. "If I am, I'm a fucking fallen, deviant one!"

"What does it feel like to be owned by someone else?" he asks, almost dribbling as he looks me up and down. His wide eyed innocent expression makes my erection throb painfully and I have to fight the urge to force my cock down his throat, contract be damned.

"It feels safe." I say, honestly. "I don't really have to think. I just have to behave myself. That's something I struggle with, but I'm trying."

"Do your injuries hurt?" he asks as he trails his fingers over my naked upper thigh.

"Not much." I respond. "It was last night but now? No, it's fine though I think these strings are going to make them start again," I wince as I try to adjust the elastic a little bit.

"What did you do to earn them?" he asks.

"I groped Annabelle when I was told not to. Why? Do you want me to grope you too?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and grinning as I try to flatten my hair.

"Yes, yes, I'd like that…" he whispers as his eyes fall to my hard cock again. I put my hand down the inside of my thong and move my erection around.

Looking at Tom I have to acknowledge that he's really quite nice looking. He's still kneeling and, without thinking, I grab hold on his hair and wrench him up so that he's standing upright again. "Are you sure?" I say, "You're still innocent… do you really want me to corrupt you, Tom? Do you?"

"God… yes…" he whispers.

"Why not?" I whisper as I grab hold of his tie and drag him forwards before I kiss him so roughly that my lips hurt. I force my tongue into his mouth and he struggles, grunting a little bit as I bend him into a better position to kiss him properly. "_Stop fighting me_…" I hiss out as my hand slides down the front of his wool trousers and I squeeze his cock tightly. "_Stop… fighting and let me fucking kiss you…_" I finish as I kiss him again and grip the top of his slender arms so tightly that he whimpers in pain. He doesn't struggle for long and almost immediately, he wraps his arms around my waist, it's the only place he can because of the bulky fucking wings, and yanks me closer to him. This boy is a fast learner.

Letting go of him, I chuckle as I step back. "Wow, Tom!" I laugh. "You kiss well for someone who has never kissed before!"

He doesn't answer me. Instead, he sways as I pick up my ridiculous bow and arrow and head into the bathroom to clean my teeth again. Attempting to tidy my hair, I walk back into the bedroom and grin. Tom is still standing stock still with his mouth hanging open. He hasn't moved and is panting loudly.

"I liked that…" he says, breathlessly.

"I know you did, and now, please, Tom, straighten your hair and tie and lead the way. Oh, and bring the supper tray with you. And try to make your erection disappear. It wouldn't do for you to have an erection when you leave my room, now would it? Okay?" I say, coldly. "And just to let you know, you wouldn't like it if I fucked you. In case you didn't notice, my cock isn't exactly small. I wouldn't want to be responsible for making you bleed and I would. I would really hurt you. Okay?"

As he nods and smiles and picks up the tray, he walks out of the door ahead of me. "Anything you say, Sir. But just to let you know, it's a risk I'd be willing to take, SIR!"

Sir?

Wow.

I liked that. I liked him doing as I told him to and I liked the way that he submitted to me when I grappled and bent him to my will. Fuck. I really don't think I'm going to be a very good submissive.

Heading down the wide, dramatic oak staircase, I stop. The entire space seems different somehow. Large blood red floral displays decorate many of the surfaces. Massive silver candelabra illuminate the space, giving an odd illusion of a gothic horror story as the shadows flicker due to the light from the cream, church candles.

Carlisle is standing by the door talking to Chancer as I continue walking behind Tom and he turns to smile at me. There is such affection in his smile that guilt floods my veins. So does fear. If he keeps looking at me like that, a couple of experts, as seasoned as my Master and Mistress will soon know that something has been going on.

"Good evening, my beautiful, beautiful boy," he says, gently as I reach the bottom of the steps and smile at him. "Talk to me. How are you feeling? How are your bruises? Fuck you look amazing… turn around and let me look at you properly…"

Nodding, I turn slowly and as his fingers trail over my naked cheeks, he groans and presses between them. _"God what I'd give to be buried in between these right now…"_ he whispers, inappropriately within hearing distance of his staff. "_Soon, boy, soon…"_

Looking up, my eyes lock with Tom's and as something catches my eye, I look to the side of me where his father is scowling at his son.

Shit.

Trying to cover our tracks, I grin at Carlisle brightly. "Good evening, Master," I say. "I feel fine now, thank you. My bruises ache but they're okay. Permission to show how pleased I am to see you, Sir?" I ask, smiling.

"God yes…" he mutters. "But don't shock Chancer and Tom," he smiles, stroking my hair, "Keep it reasonably chaste."

Licking my lips, I place my hands on my upper thighs and sink to the floor. I'm getting the hang of this now and the effort it takes to do this without using my hands or arms to balance myself gives me a deliciously tight stretch along my upper thighs and buttocks. I lie flat on the icy cold stone floor and gently kiss the tops of both of his feet before I curl upwards again and stand in front of him.

"Thank you for allowing me to serve you again this weekend, Master."

"Christ, Edward…" he mutters, thickly. "If you keep submitting like this, I'm going to cum in my jeans before our fucking guests even get here."

God I'm good.

Chancer sort of chuckles and tries to cough to cover it up but Carlisle totally ignores him, almost as if he hasn't heard him.

"Jesus, you look fucking gorgeous… good enough to eat in fact. I would love to fuck you right now… you know that, don't you?" he says, all thoughts of shocking his guests obviously flying right out of the window right now. "I know I'm not meant to touch you for the weekend, _but forgive me, Katy, I can't help myself_," he mutters as he steps forwards and holds my hand before he kisses me on the mouth. It isn't a desperate, frantic kiss like the one I'd just shared with Tom. Instead, it's long, probing and lingering and he grips my shoulders and the back of my head as he deepens it, fucking my mouth with his, despite his audience. His butler and Tom are both walking about doing stuff but are privy to our every movement but he doesn't show any sign of embarrassment of reticence. In fact, I think he quite likes the fact that he can show me off.

A cough from behind us makes him pull back, but unable to stop completely, he presses his lips to mine several times before he finally pulls away.

"Now, now, dear husband of mine," Katy chuckles, "This isn't exactly a lesson in control and following orders, now is it? How can we expect our submissives to behave themselves and follow our rules, if I can't be sure you will? And you MADE the rules!"

"Sorry, dear," he says, smiling at her as he steps back and kisses her on the forehead.

Looking at them properly for the first time, I smile at the way they are dressed. Katy is wearing an all in one PVC cat suit with thigh high statuesque boots. Her long hair is plaited and twisted up on her head and she's carrying a black rubber whip. She looks like a pervy Cat Woman and for the first time, I acknowledge that she has a fantastic body with never ending legs and small breasts. Carlisle, on the other hand, is wearing black jeans, a black t-shirt and black Doc Martin shoes. His hair is dishevelled and he looks fucking amazing.

Annabelle is standing next to Katy and at first I think she might be pissed at me for the way Carlisle behaves near me, but the second our eyes lock, she grins. Looking me up and down, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She's wearing the same outfit as I am, but in black and her nipples have been smeared with a pinky coloured oily substance that makes them shine in the candle light. I struggle to look away.

"Come now, chickens," Katy says, "One either side of the door, bows held up like little cupids as we greet our guests. And remember, eyes and head lowered at all times, unless you are instructed to do otherwise. Keep your mouths shut and don't answer anyone until either your Master or Mistress tell you to do otherwise. Now, Chancer, open the door please, love."

Doing as he's told, Chancer, who is dressed impeccably in his black suit, waistcoat and tie with the shiniest shoes I've ever seen, opens the double doors. My eyes open widely as a large throng of jabbering, chattering people enter the reception hall. As Chancer and Tom take their coats and bags, my eyes almost pop out of my head at the way everyone is attired. Some submissive's are totally naked, apart from cock cages, tailed butt plugs, clips, chains and clamps, and others are decorated with ribbons and rope. There is every shape, size, colour and age of person you could possibly imagine and although I'm meant to be keeping my eyes lowered, I struggle not to scan each and every one of them in fascination. From what I can see they all have elaborate masks on and some are wearing cloaks and capes in sumptuous fabrics.

Tom comes to stand beside me with a tray of drinks and I continue to ignore him as dozens of people file in and fill the large space. They all stop in front of me for some reason but I can't see what they're looking at.

"Move through, everyone, please, I know it's a beautiful vista but please, there are many more people trying to get inside to have a look as well," Carlisle laughs and as Katy joins in his laughter, I have a peculiar feeling that they're looking at me. Fucking awful outfit.

"My goodness!" a high pitched voice says from next to me. "He has the most perfectly pert bottom, Carlisle! Katy, darling! I see you've been playing with your toy! Is he available this evening? I'd like to see if I can add to his embellishments. Please?"

"No, Mistress Janice," Carlisle says, firmly, "He most definitely isn't available to anyone else this evening."

"What a scrumptious outfit! Did you make it, dear?" another voice says. "I see we have 'good' and 'evil' here tonight, but as I've already played with Annabelle, I know already quite how good she is at being evil! You are a lucky lady, Katy, you really, really are. And to have a husband like Carlisle at your beck and call too? Well, I would say that you are positively greedy!" she laughs. "Can I play with you all tonight?"

"Ladies, Gentlemen, Dominants, Dominatrix and submissives," Chancer says, clearing his throat as the throng of people chatter and laugh to the point that it's almost too loud, interrupting the dominatrix before Katy has to answer her. "Please be so good as to follow me."

Carlisle takes Katy's hand in his and walks ahead of us all. They too are now wearing elaborate, embroidered and feathered masks. Only Annabelle, the staff and myself remain unmasked.

Tom leads Anna and me to a door at the far end of the hallway, behind everyone else. A steep stone staircase takes us down to the basement and as we reach the large open double doors, I stumble a little. He cautiously takes my hand and leads me through them, clutching my suddenly sweaty hand tightly. I look around feeling both nervous and excited and more than a little bit like a lamb to the slaughter. I've never seen anything like it. There are elaborate, strange and slightly terrifying looking pieces of equipment, ropes, pulley systems, buckets, and tray upon tray of sex toys and accoutrements. For a moment, my nerves get the better of me and as I keep walking, Tom lets go of my hand. I seem to be in the centre of the throng and without warning, everyone turns to look at me and I swallow thickly.

A deep, throbbing base of music that I don't recognise reverberates around the stone room and fires desire in my blood. My cock is instantly hard again, and sensing my discomfort, Carlisle finds me, takes my fingers in his and leads me into the centre of the room. One by one, Dominants and Dominatrix come to talk to him with their submissives in tow. All are interested in the Hale's new toy and look me up and down as if I'm a horse for sale. Finally, a man, younger than Carlisle, walks towards us. Looking me up and down, he removes his mask as he walks around me as if he's stalking me.

"Well, well, well, Master Carlisle," he drawls, "I see you have a new shiny toy to add to your toy box of delights that is Annabelle? And a very pretty new toy at that…"

Fuck it. I'M NOT PRETTY!

"Yes, Master Caius, this is my new boy. This exquisite creature is my darling Edward. Edward, kiss the feet of Master Caius. Show him how well your training is coming along." Leaning in, he whispers, _"Make if good, Edward, this man can make or break you in our world. And he is more powerful than Katy and I. Don't embarrass us by fucking it up."_

Without saying a word, I sink to the floor and lowering my face to floor level, raising my arse high up into the air, almost in one of my inspection positions. Inhaling deeply, I gently kiss the centre of both of his feet. I don't want to do it but at the same time, behaving like this gets me more deeply into my submissive mind set and allows me to get my own way with the Hale's, so I do as I'm told.

"Stand, Edward," Katy says, touching my left arse cheek gently. "That's enough, darling," she says, smiling at me. "No more kissing of anyone's feet tonight, my darling boy." She says and there's a mild tone of irritation in her voice. "I mean it Carlisle; I don't want him to kiss anyone else but us this evening."

"Yes, dear," he says.

Doing as she says, I stand and pick up my bow. "Give Tom your bow and arrows. You don't need them anymore, boy," Carlisle says firmly.

Nodding, I don't look up as I hold my hand out to the side. I don't know how I know he's there, but I do.

"He truly is perfect, Carlisle. I'd heard that you had taken on a new boy to train but I'm guessing no one else has seen him yet? If they had, he would have been the talk of our circle. Yes… you've certainly found a jewel and I have to admit, I'm somewhat jealous. I would like to be the one who polished him to make his facets sparkle in the limelight… to demonstrate and play with this one would certainly be a pleasure…" Caius says, as he goes to touch my hair and pulls his fingers back, thinking better of it. "Where on earth did you meet him? You always seem to find the loveliest babies to join your family. I feel quite aggrieved! I'm still smarting over Annabelle. You really are one lucky bastard. Come on, tell me, _friend_," he says brightly. I manage to squint slightly and through my peripheral vision, I can see that it doesn't meet his eyes. "Or is it a secret? Do you have an untapped seam of perfect submissives hidden away somewhere?" he laughs but the sound comes out more like a screech and it makes me shudder.

"It's no secret, Caius. I met my new boy at your club when you and Angus were in Australia on your shibari tour. Katy and I held court in your place on one of the Saturday nights, remember? He was there." Carlisle says. His voice sounds odd. It feels almost like he doesn't want to tell this man anything about our time together.

"You were at my club?" Caius asks me, raising his eyebrow. I lift my head a little but keep my eyes lowered. This position means that I can see his face clearly through my peripheral vision. "You were there as a guest? Who's guest were you? Have you only attended once? Did you go with the express desire to meet a master who would train you? Did you have experience with a man and a woman or just a woman before? Was he an anal virgin, Carlisle? If he was, you are a lucky, lucky man… God I'd like to train him."

I don't respond and Carlisle stammers a little. Caius doesn't give him a chance to reply properly before he cuts in again.

"How long has he been your property? Is he your property, Carlisle or are you just training him? Has he signed a contract? If he hasn't, I would willingly take him off your hands and continue his training," he asks sounding slightly breathless.

"He _is_ my property, Master Caius," Carlisle says sounding coldly territorial. "And he has belonged to me… I mean, he's belonged to _'us'_ for just a short while. As far as I'm aware, he is quite happy with what we've taught him so far and we need no other master to help train him."

"Ah… well, I trust you remember your promise to me when you stole Annabelle from my clutches. It was a gentleman's agreement, Carlisle. A dominant's agreement, if you prefer. Please don't try and renege on it. And let me assure you, I'm greatly looking forward to tonight." He says staring at my now shrivelled crotch. "He seems to be able to control his erections well. That's quite a skill but one that I don't appreciate much. I prefer to torture a submissive's cock when they cum without permission. This boy doesn't look like e suffers from that. Okay, Carlisle, let's get on with it. You promised me, remember?"

"Tonight?" Carlisle asks, sounding slightly shocked. "Dear me, Master Caius, it can't be tonight. Edward has only been my official submissive for a few weeks, I can't possibly agree to your demands just yet. BUT," he says as Caius begins talking over him, "Tonight, we are gifting our other submissive to you. Her body is yours to do with as you see fit. Okay?"

"Yes, Carlisle," he drawls, "I was talking about your girl. I want this one when he has been broken. I want him broken completely before I take him. And if you aren't up to that, I'll happily break him for you…"

Gifting? What the hell is Carlisle talking about? And I'm not ready for him tonight? I won't be fucking ready for him any night! I can't believe that they're GIVING Annabelle to another dominant for the entire night? I know we agreed to being shared but I didn't know that we would be expected to walk away with someone else and that they would be given carte blanche to do as they see fit with us. I thought it would be during a scene in front of others. I don't like the idea of her being out of sight of any of us who care for her and want to keep her safe.

Scowling, I forget myself and look up, straight into the eyes of the man called Caius. His long silvery blond hair sits on his shoulders and his dark eyes burn into me. He has a thin, cruel mouth and a long thin nose and I blink rapidly as I look at him but can't look away. There is something quite unpleasant about this man but I can't put my finger on what it is.

He has two submissives of his own with him, one male, one female, and they are both on their knees wearing masks and thick black studded collars with chains attached. He holds the lead and keeps it painfully taut so that their necks strain as they fight to maintain their pose. Every once in a while, he gives them a sharp jerk and they battle to remain upright. A young woman dressed in a black PVC bra and knickers stands beside him with her head lowered but she isn't shackled. She is wearing PVC stockings and suspenders with the highest heels I've ever seen. Her black hair is scraped back and looks wet it's so shiny. She holds a thick cane and for the first time, I notice the silver topped walking stick in his hands. Every now and then, he uses it to poke or hit one of his submissives on the back of their knees.

Looking at him defiantly, I curl my lip. I really don't like this man.

"Oh, Master Carlisle," Caius says. "He hasn't learned very much yet, has he? You really have a defiant one here! Let me have him for just one night and I will extinguish the fire from his eyes in the way you might swat a fly. I will snap him like a stick. Let me help you train him… I want to break him… hurt him… dominate him… tell me, how is his training coming along? Is he troublesome? Do you struggle to control him? Does he like being fucked orally? He has a perfect mouth… very fuckable… and…" he begins as he walks around me. "What about here? Does he like to be fucked here? Yes… I want this one… how pliable is he during a scene? Hmmm?" he asks as he walks around me again. "I bet he is… he is wilful. Yes… I'd enjoy beating this one. My, my, his backside looks sore. A belt? My goodness. That's not the usual implement for so early in a submissives training, is it? Are you both losing your touch? Now, tell me, dear boy, was Katy in a bad mood when she did this, or did he defy you in some way? She really went to town with that belt, didn't she? My goodness, I would have liked to have seen that! Was this his first serious belting? I bet he fell apart! I love it when they beg and grovel before they finally give in and safe word."

I dislike this prick already.

"Neither," Carlisle says calmly as he takes my arm and moves me away from within Caius's touch. "We were testing his pain threshold. It would seem that we hit the jackpot with Edward. He didn't cry, he didn't safe word and he didn't beg. We didn't even have to gag him. Not only is he perfect, but he has the best body to fuck and to beat. You've seen my wife in action, Caius. She doesn't hold back when it comes to punishing a submissive and he dealt with his first time with a belt with great aplomb. We are very proud of Edward and his endeavours. You know we don't use humiliation or cruelty to train our babies, Caius. We punish our submissives only when it is needed and for no other reason. Neither of us is into inflicting unnecessary pain. You know this. I also know your predilections, and luckily for my two babies, I don't share them," he says, patting my arm. "BUT, Edward, for your tardy insubordination, I demand that you get on your knees and ask Master Caius to forgive you for disrespecting him by looking at him without my express permission. Do it now. NOW!" he barks.

Bollocks. Katy had said that I wasn't to kiss another person's feet tonight and yet here I am, being ordered to do just that by her husband.

"I am over riding Mistress Katy's order, boy!" Carlisle hisses at me, "DO IT!"

Inhaling deeply, and doing as he's ordered, I slink to the floor and look down before I begin to speak. "_Please_ forgive this boy's lack of respect for you, Master Caius. Showing you _no_ respect is an unforgiveable insult and one that I'm sure you aren't used to, being _so_ well thought of us in the lifestyle." I highlight the point that I don't respect him by intoning certain words, and I'm pretty sure both men know what I'm doing but neither makes a comment as I continue. "I didn't _mean_ to disrespect you and I certainly would never embarrass my Master or Mistress. Their pleasure is paramount to me and I will do all in my power to please them and abide by their rules and excellent training. Please accept my sincerest of apologies," I say, utterly without emotion and lean forwards and kiss the toes of his toes. Well… it looks like I do, but in fact, I kiss thin air.

"Why is it, Carlisle," Caius says as Carlisle helps me stand before he leans forwards and kisses me gently on the forehead, "that when this fucking beautiful little piece of shit apologises, it sounds as if he's taking the piss out of me?"

Carlisle huffs. "I heard no such thing, Caius. Stop over reacting. Edward is never anything but sincere and respectful. Considering that he is so new to our world, he has handled the concept of submission and deference remarkably well. And I would greatly appreciate if you wouldn't call my property names! If my wife hears you disrespecting our submissive, she will kick your arse, Caius! You know that! You trained with her, you know what she's capable of!"

Katy trained with Caius? What? Why don't I know any of this? Shit…

Nothing is what I thought it was when I returned to London yesterday. Christ. Was it only yesterday? It feels like weeks ago.

"Yes… of course, dear Carlisle, I wouldn't dream of disrespecting you and yours. I doooo apologise," Caius trails off and I can feel the sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have guests to greet and talk to and my wife is waiting for me. Tom will bring Annabelle to you and she is yours for tonight. Please remember her limits, Caius and stick to them. I don't want her to be gagged and whilst you avail yourself of her mouth, I insist that she be given a bell to hold in case she wants to end the scene. She is not to be used anally tonight. I availed myself of her backside last night and I won't have her being used like that for two nights in a row. Okay? Edward, find Tom and help him hand out refreshments and canapés. Do it now."

"Yes, yes, yes, Carlisle, do stop fussing. I'm not some trainee dominant you know! Tonight will be wonderful and it will be good to see if your training of a submissive is up to your usually high standards. I am surprised that you won't fuck her anally two nights in a row. It would hurt her. That's the point, isn't it? But she is your property and I, of course, will abide by your rules. Now, let's get on with it, shall we? I have needs that I want her to fulfil," he says as he stares at me and licks his lips. "What a pity that I can't persuade you to throw the pretty one into the equation. That would be quite some scene…"

God, he makes my skin crawl and bowing to Carlisle, I walk away quickly and sigh when I reach the safety of Tom once more and smiling to me, he brushes the back of my hand with his, comforting me. "_It's okay, Edward, don't worry. I won't let anyone hurt you. If you're nervous, safe word. Don't do anything you aren't comfortable with… promise me?"_

"I promise," I say back, clutching his fingers.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. I saw Annabelle's face as she was handed over to that piece of crap as I was holding a tray of tiny hors d'oeuvres, and I had to fight the urge to beg Carlisle not to do this. He looked at me without blinking and shook his head almost imperceptibly, knowing precisely what I was thinking. _"Embarrass me, Edward,"_ he whispered, _"And I will end our contract now. Right now. Anna has agreed to this and Caius has waited for six months for tonight."_

Every now and then, a hand gropes me and touches me inappropriately when they aren't watching, but I get used to it and don't look up. Oddly enough, despite the sights, sounds and smells of sexual deviancy that are carrying on all around me, I don't get a hard on. People constantly tell me how much I look like an angel, a fallen angel, a fucking deviant angel, how pretty I am, how lovely I am and after the first half dozen comments, I stop listening and feel strangely disjointed, almost like my body is there but my mind isn't. Even when I'm allowed to watch Caius caning one of his submissives, I choose to look down at my feet. The level of force he uses and the venom on his face makes my heart race and I know then that this man isn't just a sadist in the lifestyle but that he is a cruel and vicious man in the real world too. He uses the tip of one of my feathers to wipe the frothing saliva from the corners of his mouth when he's finished and I want to hit him. However much I loathe this costume, I don't want him respecting something that my mistress had made for me.

My nerves crank up wondering where Anna has been left and what he plans on doing to her. I want to ask Katy to put my mind at rest but I know that I would be flogged for this level of insubordination, so stupidly, I keep my mouth closed.

Carlisle ensures that I drink water throughout the evening and despite the heat and throng of bodies, I don't feel uncomfortable. Carlisle and Katy had decided not to exhibit after all, they simply wander around, holding hands, talking to their friends. They spend a lot of time showing me off and I feel like first prize in some country side show for prize animals, but I ignore them and what they are saying most of the time. I catch the odd '_isn't he pretty,' 'isn't he beautiful,'_ _'gosh, Katy, he looks like an angel in that outfit,_' but I try to ignore it. I don't want to be punished for yelling '_I'm not fucking pretty'_ across the room. I must appear to all and sundry like the perfect specimen of submission, which couldn't be further from the truth as my eyes scan the floor trying to see Annabelle's horrible sandals whenever I can.

I don't see Anna again all night, although I keep looking and I surmise that she isn't in the dungeon. She must have been taken to either a bedroom or another room so trying to find her in a house this size when I don't know my way around is a pointless endeavour.

Some of the scenes are most definitely not for me and when we pass an area that has been cordoned off with screens and tall floral displays, the smell of shit and piss makes the residue of risotto rise in the back of my throat. How anyone can possibly be into Scat play and golden shower is beyond me, but I guess many would think that about me enjoying being beaten by a belt.

Listening to the demonstration of double flogging that a dominant called Master Malcolm conducted, I am fascinated and hang on his every word. "Have a ten minute break, Edward," Carlisle says. "You seem to like this so why don't you watch and learn? Master Malcolm trained Katy in Florentine flogging, so you could do well to watch him carefully. I still think you're more of a switch than a straight forward submissive but for now; we will stick to our training as planned. Now, listen to this discussion and enjoy yourself but do NOT make eye contact with anyone, lower your eyes if anyone approaches you and talk to no one, no matter who they are or what they say to you. Especially not to Master Caius or to Chastity, his trainee dominatrix. Okay? _I have a horrible feeling that she's even more sadistic than he is…"_

He mumbles the end part of his sentence, and I'm not sure than I was supposed to hear that. The thought of anyone relishing inflicting pain more than he does is truly terrifying.

I don't respond.

"Good boy," he says, bending down to kiss me on the lips again.

As he walks away, I turn again, lean on a pillar and listen with rapt attention to the dominant who is demonstrating. I watch enraptured as he uses a thick cane to point out areas on his female submissives back, buttocks and upper thighs and explains that with careful usage and precision training, you can hit in the exact spot you are aiming at. He also explains that with dedication, you can inflict the amount of pressure you plan to and no more or less. He also says that if he flicks an exposed clitoris, butt plug or ball sac repeatedly, he can make a submissive orgasm at will.

Being as anally retentive as I am, this interests me far more than anything else I've seen or heard this evening.

Feeling more relaxed now that the malevolent presence of Caius has been removed, I forget Carlisle's instructions and walk around, looking at the sounds, sights and smells all around me. I actually find that they are arousing and my cock rises in response. But nothing excites me, frankly, as much as the impact play demonstrations and scenes do. I watch, rapt as another dominant uses two floggers on his beautifully ebony skinned male submissive. His skin looks purple where he's been hit and once more, my fingers twitch as I wonder what those raise bumps feel like to touch. It's so skilled and precise and the way his skin flushes under his ministrations is remarkable.

I'm on the point of pushing my way to the front when I yelp and jump as something hurts me. _"What the fuck?"_ I hiss but don't turn away until Tom pinches my leg again to get my attention do I turn away.

"_Look down! Quickly, Edward, look down!"_ he whispers, "_You're being watched."_

Looking down instantly, the hackles on the back of my neck rise and I'm acutely aware of someone standing too close to me.

"Edward," the voice says, "You really are a defiant little boy, aren't you? Do your Master and Mistress know that you are wandering around without restraint watching all around you? Do you have permission to do this? I can't believe that they would allow you such freedom. Do they allow that? Knowing them, I wouldn't be surprised. Don't you feel the need to find yourself someone who can totally break you? Completely dominate you? Take utter and total control of your mind and body?" I don't respond. I want to spit at him after I've punched him in the mouth. I don't. "Oh, I see you can be submissive under the instruction and glare of a proper dominant, can't you? Well, that's good to know and let me tell you, I can't wait until I get to beat that defiant streak out of you. And I will. I promise you, I will."

He fucking well won't.

"Edward," Carlisle says quietly from behind me. I turn my body to his but keep my eyes and head lowered respectfully. The feeling of warmth and fondness that radiates from him warms my chilled body and frayed nerves as he presses his fingers against my cheek. And without permission, I lean my face into his hand. "Darling boy," he murmurs. "I'm here… I'm here... Caius," he snaps. "Back away from my property and stop threatening him or I will demand the return of my female submissive and ask you to leave my home this evening."

"I do apologise, dear Carlisle," he says, "I was just concerned that your toy was over stepping the mark. I wouldn't want him to embarrass and humiliate you in public. In front of all your equals and some of your peers, that would never do, now would it?"

Bastard.

Clenching my fists but managing to keep my mouth shut as Carlisle strokes my neck gently. "Now, Edward, I am giving you to Master Malcolm for the next thirty minutes to help with his double flogging demonstration." I inhale sharply. My arse is still sore and I really don't think I could handle any more. "Don't worry. You won't be demonstrating, baby," Carlisle says, squeezing my fingers kindly. "You will be handing him implements and taking used items from him. Okay?" he finishes, as he strokes my cheek and kisses me gently on the lips. "Tom, take my baby boy to the demonstration area, please."

"My, my, my, Carlisle," Caius laughs, "Does your wife know that you have a serious crush on your new boy toy?"

Fucker.

"Go and play, Edward," Carlisle says, as he grabs Caius by the arm and leads him across the room, fighting his way through the thronging masses, yelling loudly at the other man as he does so.

Sighing in relief, I nod and smile as Tom leads me away from the Grim Reaper. I spend the next thirty minutes standing beneath a much too hot spot light and watch carefully as Master Malcolm does his thing.

I love it. I can't speak, obviously, but the way that the spotlight is angled shows the prone submissives body off to perfection and I watch Master Malcolm's every movement with hungry eyes. He is a genius and after a protracted flogging, he uses a rabbit hair flogger to flick her pussy half a dozen and times and with absolutely no penetration, she squirts in a high arc of clear liquid. I have to fight my urge to give him a round of applause.

"Thank you, young man," he says, patting me on the head as I help pack his things away. "You really are lovely. Carlisle and Katy are very lucky and I'm terribly grateful for your help. I have a little bit of lumbago now and all the bending exacerbates it. I'm off to have some liniment rubbed in. Go and have a drink and express my gratitude to your Master and Mistress, dear boy," he says kindly.

I smile and nod. He is really a very sweet man.

"And who are you, you delicious thing, you?" a female voice asks from beside me. I clench my jaw as her fingers trail along the top edge of my thong but somehow, I manage to control myself and don't look up. I know she's crossing a line by touching me, it is expressly forbidden to do so and even the vile creature, Caius, knew to keep his hands to himself. "Gosh you look as if you've fallen from the heavens dressed like that. You look beautiful. Who are you?" I don't answer. "Are you a peripatetic submissive? I'm at a loose end and am terribly turned on. Do you want to come into one of the private areas and play with me?" she asks as Caius slithers up to us again.

"Still wandering without restraint, boy?" he snaps. I ignore him. Considering he's supposed to be playing with my friend, he seems to be spending an inordinate amount of time hovering around near me.

"This," Katy says from beside me, "Is our new submissive, Edward. And don't touch, Marianne, you know the rules, dear. You should do, you've been a submissive for long enough. Don't touch my property. Now, come on, Edward, enough freedom. It's time to help Tom hand out refreshments and to help clean up after some of the demonstrations, and Caius, please move away, Edward and Tom need to get passed you. Keep your opinions regarding what I do and don't do with my submissive to yourself or forget Carlisle having you removed; I'll do it my bloody self! Thank you."

Doing as she says, I walk away, following Tom, grateful to get away from Caius and his malevolent gaze.

The next couple of hours are spent wearing gloves, a transparent plastic disposable apron. My job seems to be picking up used condoms, soiled sex toys and handing out bottles of water, glasses of fruit juice and packets of anti-bacterial wipes. Tom chats to me quietly and despite the fact that I teased him mercilessly earlier, he seems to be pretty genial and genuinely likes spending time with me. I can feel a new friendship burgeoning, if he can learn to keep his mouth and hands to himself, and if I want him to.

As the night draws to a close, Chancer and a female dressed in a black dress with an apron and gloves on who I haven't seen before, help us. I surmise that she is Tom's mother, but she doesn't look at either Tom or I as we clean and tidy up. They must have been party to this type of thing many times over, as there is no embarrassment whatsoever, as they place soiled sex toys in bags and wipe things down.

Just as the clock strikes midnight, Katy appears by my side like a PVC clad Cinderella. "Now, love," she says, frowning. "You've done very well tonight. Very well indeed, but I think it's time you retired for the evening."

Scowling I look at her. Retire? What the hell is she talking about? Surely I will be required to help to return the status quo to the dungeon.

"Don't over think things, boy," she snaps as I frown. It isn't like her to be like this. What the hell has happened? She looks jittery and wrings her hands constantly. "I would like you to go to Annabelle's room and sleep in bed with her. You may cuddle her and I think for tonight you should talk to her. I know I said you weren't to interact, but I've changed my mind. Please do it now. Be gentle with her, Edward. She's quite very sore and I want to make sure that she's alright during the night. She asked permission to have you with her and we agreed. She says she needs you and much as we respect her wishes, as soon as the sun comes up, our prior punishment stands. Do you understand me? Answer me."

"Yes, Mistress. I understand. Permission to ask a question?" I ask and without giving her time to respond, I continue. "Is she alright?"

"Off you go then." She says, calmly, ignoring my question but as I look up, her face is slightly twisted and she looks worried. "Hurry now. She's waiting for you."

Turning around, I bolt up the stairs with my heart bashing against my ribcage and my stomaching residing somewhere in my sandals as Tom thunders behind me. Even before I even reach her door, I can hear her crying.

I'll fucking kill him.

Tom is still hot on my heels and as I yank the door open, I can see Carlisle bending over the bed, talking quietly to her. "It's okay… it's okay… it all just got a little bit heavy handed. I've used some numbing cream on your marks. You should be more comfortable in a little while, darling girl and the pain killers will start working soon. Edward is here and Tom will run you a bath whilst we both massage you and give you aftercare. Now try to breathe deeply and calm yourself, love," he says.

What the fucking hell has he done to her? Heavy handed? I'll give the wanker heavy fucking handed! Clenching my fists, I dig my nails into the palms of my hands and bite my tongue in a bid to stop myself from yelling at Carlisle and telling him exactly what I think about him and his fucked up decision in handing her to that fucker in the first place, and this is before I can even see her properly.

"Edward, come here," he orders.

Doing as he demands, I walk forwards with trepidation and stop dead in my tracks at the sight before me. Annabelle's body, from her shoulders, all the way down to her knees, is a shocking midnight blue and there are rogue dark purple stripes across her upper arms and calves. I've never seen anything like it. She looks as if she's been in a car crash and my hand flies to my mouth in horror.

"I'll fucking kill the FUCKER!" I yell out as I rush forwards. "HOW COULD YOU, CARLISLE? HOW COULD YOU LET HIM DO THIS TO HER? I THOUGHT YOU WERE A GOOD GUY? I THOUGHT YOU WERE SOME SORT OF FUCKING GENIUS IN THE WORLD OF FUCKING BDSM? YOU AND KATY ARE MEANT TO PROTECT US AND LOOK AFTER US AND YOU HANDED HER OVER TO HIM? You let him do this to her? What kind of sick fuck are you?"

"No, no you won't hurt him," Carlisle says. "This wasn't Caius's doing. Stop jumping to conclusions, Edward and stop yelling at your Master before I cane you for insubordination! I know you're upset, but this behaviour isn't helping any of us right now! Calm down! You need to help Annabelle, not make her more upset. He left her with the young dominatrix that he's training whilst he had a bite to eat, and she didn't follow his instructions. He had nothing to do with this, other than a lapse in concentration and he has been suitably been chastised for the sorry debacle, Edward."

Oh. Well, it still doesn't make it right.

Ignoring my flared nostrils, he carries on. "Now, Tom, please go and run a bath with half the salts that we usually use and add a large squirt of foaming arnica under the running water. Miss Smith needs looking after and she needs looking after right now. When you've done that, could you get a few extra towels and a couple of blankets from the linen cupboard. We need to keep Anna warm and I'm waiting for the shock to kick in. Off you go. Now. Edward, get some water from the fridge please." Carlisle holds his hand out and takes the bottle from me before he gently tips it and helps her to sip from it. "Move around to the other side, please and we will start from the feet up." He says and as I do, he hands me the bottle of arnica lotion. We carefully massage upwards, towards the heart, careful to avoid the marks from the cane, which is, frankly, bloody hard to do because there isn't much of her body left uninjured.

She sobs gently into her pillow and I stroke her sweat soaked hair. Carlisle goes to pick her up but I stop him. "No. Don't touch her, Carlisle. I'll look after her. Let me carry her." He doesn't argue with me as I gently roll her and pick her up, carrying her carefully into the bathroom. I talk to her gently as her head snuggles into the crook of my neck. I lower her into the warm water and she jerks upright as her bottom is submerged.

"It hurts!" she sobs and I hush her gently.

"I know it does… ssshh… it's okay, Anna. It's okay. No one will EVER do that to you again," I say, as I turn and glower at Carlisle. He has the decency to blush. "I'll look after her now. You can all leave now." I say, probably more firmly than I should but they all do as I ask.

I spend the next twenty minutes humming to her and washing her hair and body. It's as I'm rinsing the conditioner from her hair that I realise I was humming some of my mother's compositions.

When I've finished and she's quieter, I lift her out of the water and pat her dry. "Don't move," I tell her as I put my head around her bedroom door and yell for Tom. "Go and get my discarded t-shirt from my room please, Tom," I say and when he brings it back, I massage more lotion into her damaged skin before I pull it over her head and carry her to her bed.

"Could you get something sweet for Anna to eat, please, Tom?" I ask him. "And make some hot sugary tea for her as well? I believe they're good for shock. Just a piece of cake or a biscuit or something will do. Anything you can get your hands on. Thanks."

"Of course, Sir," he says and he dashes off. As I tuck Annabelle into bed and stroke her hand, Tom returns to the room. He has a tray piled high with biscuits, cake, some fruit and a pot of tea with enough cups for four.

We both sit and keep her company whilst she manages to nibble a corner of some double baked cheese cake and sips her much too sweet tea. I dim the lights and Tom banks the fire to keep the room warm as our supposed owners return to see how she is. They are both suitably quiet at I rage at them and say that I think Annabelle needs to see a doctor.

"I am a doctor…" Carlisle mutters. "I can treat Anna perfectly well without the need to involve anyone else, thank you very much, Edward."

"No." I say, firmly, "I think she should see her own GP. Her marks are awful and I'm worried that there might be long term damage. And you're far too closely involved. I want someone impartial and independent to treat her, Carlisle. I don't want you touching her." I state flatly.

"There won't be any long term effects, Edward," Carlisle says, "I promise you that. She will be sore for a week or so and university is out for the beginning of the week but she will be fine. I've treated cases like this many, many times. I know you are very fond of Anna, but please stop over reacting to things."

"I knew that fucking Chastity was going to be trouble, Carlisle, I just knew it. I saw her punishing Caius's female submissive at his last party and I saw the way she orgasmed as she beat Justine really badly. I told you I didn't trust her, didn't I?" she says, angrily.

"So you're blaming me too are you, Katy? You agreed to his terms as much as I did! We both wanted Annabelle in our lives, it wasn't just me who said he could play with her half way through her training, was it? Edward blames me as well, I know he does! Fucking hell! I tried to keep her safe! How was I to know that he'd leave her to be played with by Chastity! I told them she wasn't experienced with pleasuring a woman yet! Edward! It wasn't my fault!"

I ignore him and manage to get Anna to eat a slice of ripe mango to keep her blood sugar levels raised. I don't give a shit if he's battling with a pity party right now. It's their fault she was shared, pure and simple. If I ever become a dominant, I'll never share a submissive.

What?

I don't want to be a bloody dominant! I'm struggling enough with being a fucking submissive! I'm really in it for the sex and new skills and excitement, but after tonight, I'm pretty sure I will be walking away as fast as my size thirteen's can carry me!

Katy and Carlisle leave us alone without any further argument saying that they need to oversee their friends leaving and to ensure the thorough cleaning up of their basement. The industrial cleaning brigade has arrived to clean up the blood-letting, scat and golden showers areas, and they need to be monitored.

"I want to get this shit off!" I yell as I wrestle to untie my wings. "I can't fucking get them off!"

"Sssh…" Tom says, "Let me…" he continues as he helps me strip off my ludicrous wings and undoes my sandals as I shimmy off the uncomfortable thong. Kneeling at my feet, his fingers trail up my inner thighs and instantly, and highly inappropriately, my cock slowly rises as he stares at it. "Is she sleeping?" he asks. "Is she?"

"Anna?" I ask. She doesn't move and her breathing is even and steady as I walk towards her. "Yep. She's asleep; I think the pain killers have kicked in. Either that or the shock of it all has taken its toll. Why?" I ask, smiling.

"Can you kiss me again?" Tom asks, "Like you did before?"

"No, not in here," I say, looking behind me at Anna again. "We might get caught and I think we've had quite enough drama for one night, don't you? I can't kiss you again tonight, Tom. Sorry."

"I guess you're right…" he pouts as I spit on my hand and smile at him. "What are you doing?" he asks, frowning as slide my saliva coated, splayed fingers up and down my erection gently. "Are you going to wank in front of me?" he asks, sounding alarmed. "I… I don't think… I… um…"

"No, I'm not doing that just now. I'm not allowed to masturbate, so don't worry," I grin at him, resisting the urge to tell him that I'm not allowed to touch anyone else either. He's so sweet and kind and I want to do something nice for him. "I'm not going to make myself cum, Tom, but I am going to make you feel good. Don't stop me. Let me do this…" I continue as I stare into his eyes and slide my fingers inside the waistband of his trousers. He gasps and tries to shuffle backwards as I push my way inside his boxer shorts. He is hard and wet and I grin at him as I expertly grip his cock tightly. "Is it nice?"

He groans loudly and nods as I shush him. I move my hand faster and as I lean forwards and suck his neck gently, I cup his balls through his trousers. I jerk my arm rapidly now, gripping just below his exposed head, massaging the more sensitive frenulum as well as the corona, and grunting loudly, he cums all over my fingers.

"Oh God…" he mutters as he tries to calm his breathing. "I'm so sorry! Edward! I'm so sorry! I made… a mess… of you!" he says, sounding frantic. Shaking my head, I pull my hand out and lick his cum off it. "Shit! Can… you do that? Taste it… I mean when… there's so… oh my God… there's so… much of it? Is… is… it disgusting? Is it… horrible?" he asks, breathlessly, looking horrified by my actions. "I mean… oh hell… I'm getting hard again…"

"No," I say honestly, shrugging. "Jizz tastes great, here, have a bit." I finish as I slide my finger into his mouth, "Suck it off. Do it. And fucking do it right now."

He looks at me with huge eyes as he nervously pokes his tongue out and tastes himself for the first time. "Oh…" he whimpers before I push two fingers into his mouth and this time, there's no reticence. This time he sucks firmly and enthusiastically, grabbing my wrist and gobbles down what I'm giving him. "I want you in my mouth again… I want you in my mouth…" he mutters as he pulls his fingers up my face. "Please… let me help you…" he whispers as he reaches down and cups my balls. "God. You're fucking perfect… let me do the same to you…"

Grinning at his half risen erection, I shake my head. "No, Tom. Enough for tonight. I might, and I mean I MIGHT, let you suck my cock some other time, but not now. Now, you need to go and finish cleaning up before someone notices how long you've been up here with me. And I can't risk upsetting them," I say, pulling my fingers away, "And I need to get into bed with Anna and make sure she has some sleep. Goodnight, Tom."

"I like you, Edward…" he whispers as he gazes into my eyes.

"Don't like me, Tom," I say brusquely. "Please. Don't. I'm not looking for a relationship with anyone and you're very kind and innocent. I'll hurt you and you're a nice guy, I don't want to hurt you. Don't like me as a friend or as anything else because it won't end well if you do. Please. I don't want anyone to want me like that. Okay? I don't mind fucking and being fucked but I don't do relationships and I certainly don't do emotions. For the time being I belong to the Hale's, that's what I signed up for so that they could teach me. You mustn't mention any of this again, you must keep it as our secret. It's vital for both of us that you do. Okay? Now, please go and let me look after Anna. Goodnight and thank you for everything," I say, smiling.

Blushing, he nods and walks away. I brush my teeth and wash my face and hands before I climb into bed with Anna, naked, wrapping my arms around her carefully.

She sighs and snuggles into me as her eyes flicker open and she frowns at me. "_You're playing with fire, Edward Cullen,"_ she whispers before she drifts off to sleep.

She's right, I really know I am, and so much for doing as I'm told, for a change. So much for becoming the best submissive in the world! At this rate, I'm going to be kicked out of their house and will never get the training I want, and need.

…**..**

**Isn't he a naughty boy? He REALLY can't keep it in his boxers, can he? Bad boy that he is, I do understand why he touched Tom like that. And however naughty he is, I do love him. I can't help myself, he is a damaged soul and sees any kind of physical act as warmth and nurturing and as such, he brings out my maternal instincts even when he's a little sod. He needs the physical act of sex like most of us simply need a cuddle. I feel for him.**

**More soon.**

**Hugs and squeezes. **

**V x**


	13. Chapter 13

**Bonjour! How are we all on this sodding cold, but beautiful day? I'm fed up of winter now that it's straddled its way unattractively into what should be spring!**

**Thanks for the lovely reviews. I am very grateful to those of you who have stuck with me for the duration of my little tales. Hugs and squeezes to you from me.**

**THIS CHAPTER IS BETA'D BUT NOT PRE-READ, ALL AND ANY MISTAKES ARE MINE. FORGIVE ME BUT THERE IS A GOOD REASON WHY I'M POSTING THIS NOW.**

**Sooooo… just to let you know, I'm being cyber bullied, AGAIN. And good for them, they had my story pulled by today. Yep. That's right, ISS has gone for the second time. I can't stomach reviews like I was getting today. I was told that they were happy my Ernie had developed a tumour and died because my writing was so bad, they didn't blame him for leaving me. And that was mild compared to some of the other personal and deeply offensive comments from people I once helped extensively as friends. I just consider them aberrations. I don't need that type of shit. I will continue with the boys side of things for now and want to get to the point where they meet for the first time, but if that too gets pulled, we will continue on facebook. Thanks to all of you that have helped me and supported Bella and the harpies, and give me a few weeks and I will start to post it in Harpies Haven.**

…

**Now, please be aware, this chapter is once again quite hard hitting and won't be for the faint of heart. YOU HAVE BEEN warned so please be aware. It is a story that contains both slash and BDSM scenes so PLEASE don't whine if it offends! It is rated NC17/MA for a reason and so you need to tread very carefully!**

**I don't own Twilight, the follicaly lustrous Stephanie Meyer does. I do, however, own the story lines and all the new characters.**

**Thank you, as ever, to Rima2000 and Laura Mars for all their hard work in buffing up my babies. Thanks girls. And to my facebook wifey, Katy Dazzledbythe Cullen, mwah for pre-reading.**

**So, without further ado, let's carry on, shall we? The harpy girls might not be active in this story but their influence is never far away, as you can tell by Edward's dappy female associates and I'm beginning to think that all these nutty women might just be my not so well hidden eccentricities fighting their way out! **

**We proudly present:**

**BREAK OUT**

**CHAPTER 13**

_**When explanations make no sense**__**  
**__**When every answer's wrong**__**  
**__**You're fighting with lost confidence**__**  
**__**All expectations gone**__****_

_**The time has come to make or break**__**  
**__**Move on don't hesitate**__**  
**__**Breakout**__****_

_**Don't stop to ask**__**  
**__**Now you've found a break to make at last**__**  
**__**You've got to find a way**__**  
**__**Say what you want to say**____**  
**__**Breakout**__****_

_**When situations never change**__**  
**__**Tomorrow looks unsure**__**  
**__**Don't leave your destiny to chance**__**  
**__**What are you waiting for**__**  
**__**The time has come to make your break**__**  
**__**Breakout**__****_

_**Don't stop to ask**__**  
**__**Now you've found a break to make at last**__**  
**__**You've got to find a way**__**  
**__**Say what you want to say**____**  
**__**Breakout**__****_

_**Don't stop to ask**__**  
**__**Now you've found a break to make at last**__**  
**__**You've got to find a way**__**  
**__**Say what you want to say**____**  
**__**Breakout**__****_

_**Some people stop at nothing**__**  
**__**If you're searching for something**__**  
**__**Lay down the law**__**  
**__**Shout out for more**__**  
**__**Breakout and shout day in day out**__**  
**__**Breakout**__****_

_**Breakout**__****_

_**Don't stop to ask**__**  
**__**Now you've found a break to make at last**__**  
**__**You've got to find a way**__**  
**__**Say what you want to say**____**  
**__**Breakout**__****_

_**Don't stop to ask**__**  
**__**Now you've found a break to make at last**__**  
**__**You've got to find a way**__**  
**__**Say what you want to say**__**  
**__**Breakout**__****_

_**Lay down the law**__**  
**__**Shout out for more**__**  
**__**Breakout and shout day in day out**__****_

_**Breakout**__****_

_**Breakout**__****_

_**Breakout**__****_

_**Lay down the law**__**  
**__**Shout out for more**__**  
**__**Breakout and shout day in day out**_

….

**Previously:**

"**I like you, Edward…" he whispers.**

"**Don't like me, Tom," I say brusquely. "I'm not looking for a relationship with anyone and you're very kind and innocent. I'll hurt you. Don't like me. Please. I don't want anyone to want me like that. Okay? I don't mind fucking and being fucked but I don't do relationships and I certainly don't do emotions. Now, please go and let me look after Anna. Goodnight and thank you for everything," I say, smiling.**

**Blushing, he nods and walks away. I brush my teeth and wash my face and hands before I climb into bed with Anna, wrapping my arms around her carefully.**

**She sighs and snuggles into me as her eyes flicker open and she frowns at me. "**_**You're playing with fire, Edward Cullen,"**_** she whispers before she drifts off to sleep.**

**She's right, I really know I am and so much for doing as I'm told for a change. So much for becoming the best submissive in the world! At this rate, I'm going to be kicked out of their house and will never get the training I want, and need.**

…**..**

Sunday morning dawns far too soon for my liking. Banging and thumping makes me start and opening my eyes, I groan as a sliver of light creeps into the darkness from the partially opened door and makes them ache.

"Fuck off…" I grumble as I try to find the edge of the cover to pull it up and over my head.

Soft laughter echoes in the darkened room and I squint trying to see where its coming from just as Tom inconsiderately parts the heavy curtains and wooden shutters and allows the light in.

Smiling at me, he walks passed me and puts something next to the fireplace before he places a tray on the table next to me. I try to close my eyes again but as he rattles away with something, I admit defeat and sigh, propping myself up on one elbow to watch him as he moves around.

God I'm so tired…

The night had been hell on earth to be honest. Annabelle had whimpered and tossed and turned all night and more than once, she'd screamed loudly, frightening the ever living crap out of me. I'd cuddled her and rocked her, humming and trying to comfort her. I did try to snatch the odd bit of sleep but I didn't get more than ten minutes at a time and the last thing I remember is her arm flying out and whacking me across the face just as the clock struck 5:30 am. I'm knackered and my mood is as dark as the room was mere seconds earlier. Added to that, my arse still aches from Friday night, both inside and out and every movement seems to be far more intense than it was the day before. No doubt because I'm so exhausted.

Keeping one eye tightly closed, I scowl at him for his bright exuberance and huff in annoyance as I flop back. He's standing next to the bed, smiling at me shyly and blushing as he all but bats his eyelashes at me. Every time I look at him, he's staring at me.

Fuck it.

I made a bad call there and I think the hand job I gave him last night could become a problem. However sweet he is and however much I don't want to hurt him, I will. I'm not ready for any kind of relationship and don't think I ever will be. Actually, that isn't exactly true, I know now that I don't want any kind of relationship with anyone, other than a sexual one. I already know that I want to be chosen to do the extra year's legal training abroad, extending my degree from three to four years. I can't apply for it yet but I really want it and plan to go to Poitiers in France, if possible, and I have no desire to let anyone stand in my way. Not even my friendship with Jasper or Annabelle will hinder my future working life. If I let anyone into my life emotionally, I will damage my time with the Hales and I'm with them to learn, not to feel anything but what they can show me.

Mind you, right now, I'm not entirely sure that I want to stay with them either. Not after last night's sickening debacle. And I suppose he is quite easy on the eye. Reluctantly I have to admit, that in the cold light of day, he's better looking than I remember and my cock twitches as I look him up and down. He has a smattering of freckles across his creamy, white face and his cheeks are pink. The fabric of his trousers is stretched tightly over his backside as he bends down to place something on the floor and I wonder, briefly, what it would feel like under my fingertips.

"Good morning, Mister Cullen," he says as he turns, "I trust you slept well last night, Sir?" he asks as he walks across the room and kneels down. Pushing myself up on my elbows again, I watch as he takes rose shaped swirls of paper and pushes them into the smouldering embers of the fire before he adds wooden kindling. It ignites quickly and efficiently before he adds some more wood and a few small nuggets of coal before he digs about underneath to remove the ashes from the basket and piles them into a metal bucket.

Who the hell would spend ages making little paper flowers simply to make a fire with them? I have no idea and right now, I don't bloody well care, I just want to go to sleep and to be left alone.

"What?" I ask. "What did you say?" I'm not sure what he had said because I wasn't paying attention to him and my concentration keeps wavering.

"I said I wish a very good morning to you, Mister Cullen," he says, grinning to me.

"Is it?" I grumble as I flop backwards before I squint out of the window. "What's so fucking good about it?" I ask, feeling like a bear with a sore head. "It's fucking cold in here. Isn't there any central heating in this sodding mausoleum? Carlisle and Katy live in a modern house in London. This place is like a sodding time warp. And I thought I told you not to call me that…"

Tom chuckles as he adds some extra coal and several carefully placed dry logs that crackle and spark before he quickly puts the fire guard in front of it to protect the antique rugs. "It isn't that cold in here, Master Cullen. It's really chilly outside, even the edges of the lake have frozen over this morning, but it's not bad indoors. I think you might just need a blanket, or a bed mate who doesn't steal the quilt and instead wraps themselves around you and looks after you and your needs, Sir," he says as he pointedly looks at me. The glow from the fire makes his hair look like a treacly brown and his skin shines with a burnish that makes him look very attractive.

"What?" I ask, raising my hand over my eyes to protect my tired eyes as I squint at him. I'm pissed off that he's being so personal in front of a potentially awake Annabelle. "What the fuck did you just say? Are you insane? I thought we agreed not to…"

"I didn't mean that. Look," he says, interrupting me as he points to the bed.

Frowning deeply, I look at where he's pointing. Anna who is still, thankfully, fast asleep, is wrapped in the duvet, mummy style. Every inch of her is covered, apart from her face. Like a typical bloody, quilt stealing female, she's pinched all the blankets whilst we were asleep and my naked body is covered in goose flesh. Jace used to do just the same and even if Riley and I took other blankets to bed with us, she would pinch those too and we would still end up shivering on the edges of the bed.

Turning to the window again, I sigh. The sky is a pale, watery greyish white and there's a sparkling of frost on the glass. Great. It would seem that winter came calling and the frigidity of the room matches my cold mood. Huffing, I attempt to drag the duvet off Anna to cover up my naked arms to stop me shivering in the cold.

"I've turned the radiators up to their full level, both in here and in your own bedroom. Both suites of rooms will be warm soon, Sir," he says as he places a tea tray next to the bed. "Do you wish to return to your room for your early morning tea or will you take it here, with Miss Annabelle?"

"Do you ever sleep?" I mutter, ignoring his questions as Annabelle opens her eyes and whimpers as she rolls away from me and lies on her back like a prone sausage. It must be excruciating and has to be time for more pain relief. "Did you even go to bed last night?"

"Actually," he says as he stands next to the bed once again and begins pouring the tea, "I went to bed not long after I left you and do you know something? I slept really well last night. I don't know why… I felt relaxed and content. Do you have any idea why I might have slept so well, Sir?" he finishes, grinning at me as his fingers trail down my arm.

Ugh.

"Anna, give me some of the fucking quilt. Stop hogging it all, bitch face." I grumble at her as I roll away from him, removing his fingers from my skin. She chuckles a little bit as she wriggles free of the bedding and then hisses. "Are there any pain killers mixed in with the tea?" I ask him, opening both eyes now. "She's going to be in agony today and it must be a long time since she had anything."

"The master came to Miss Smith in the night and gave her some more pain relief, Sir," he says as he stirs a spoon of honey into the steaming liquid. "I was with him and helped him," he explains as he pours the milk into the swirling amber, he purses his lips in concentration.

"Yeah…" I mutter, "Well… still, she needs something else… something more…" I grumble, looking him up and down.

His hair is perfectly combed and he's clean shaven. He's slightly less formally attired today, wearing black trousers and a plain black jumper that is tightly fitted. I'm glad he isn't wearing his waistcoat and tie and that he's discarded the shiny patent shoes in favour of a pair of slightly scuffed Doc Martin's. Thank God Carlisle and Katy don't expect their 'staff' to dress like extras from Gosford Park every day.

"As I said, do you ever sleep, Tom? Do they ever let you have some time off?"

"Master Carlisle gives me lots of time off, Sir," he says, as he puffs up my pillows, rearranges the covers and tries to hand me my tea. "He funded my degree in Business Studies at Exeter and ensures that I have use of one of his vehicles at all times. He's doing up one of the cottages further into the estate for me to live in and it should be ready in time for the spring so that I can live independently of my parents. Last night's party was the first part of my moving into managing the estate and taking some of the work load off my father. Dad's health isn't what it used to be, he's diabetic now and Carlisle wants to give him a little more free time. He's employed another two members of staff to help my mother so that she can spend time with dad and let them travel a bit. He's given them use of his villa in Spain and the house in Italy so that they can get a bit of sun. He's a wonderfully kind and considerate boss. I am very blessed to work for both him and the mistress."

Ignoring the offered cup and his pleasant words, I yank the covers up over my head and ignore him.

"The master and mistress asked me to tell you that they expect you both to meet them in the formal dining room for brunch at 11:00 am. They said you aren't to be late. It's 10:00 am already, Ed… I mean, Sir, and they say they will be leaving for town at 1:00 pm precisely so could you both pack, so that I can load the car whilst you're eating," he finishes before he bows slightly and heads towards the door.

"Don't fucking bow to us, Tom," I mutter. "This is the year two thousand and one," I say, "Not nineteen hundred and one. Stop being so fucking deferential to us… I hate it."

"It's my job to behave like this, Sir," he states, firmly, "The master and mistress like the old ways to be maintained when they're here. Sorry if it offends you. When they aren't around, we behave very differently and work very short hours. My parents and I love our jobs."

"It doesn't offend me, Tom," I sigh, "Sorry, I'm tired so I'm in a bad mood, just ignore me. Please? But I don't like people being treated differently. That's all. Sorry."

"Of course, Master Cullen, it's fine," he says, leaving the room.

"Shit…" I say, scrubbing the knuckles of my fingers over my face, "I've upset him now. Fuck it all… I really am turning into my father. Treating people as if they are little more than the hired help. Barking orders at them… shit… I'm a fucker…"

"Oh stop being pathetic. You didn't mean it like that and if he takes it the wrong way, well, there's nothing you can do about that. You've got far more to worry about than whether you've upset your latest fucking conquest or not. You're going to get into so much shit if they find out that you kissed him and gave him a hand job last night. You know that, right?" Anna mutters from beside me. "You're an arse, Edward. Fucking their hired help? Really? That was not a clever thing to do. I thought I'd seen you fuck up yesterday but that took the biscuit. Yeah… didn't you criticise your dad and my parents for doing that?"

"I'm not fucking him," I sigh, as I fling the covers back and climb out of bed and pad across the soft rugs. Her room is totally different to mine. She has a half tester bed with a canopy and it's terribly pretty, floral and girlie. I've never thought about her like that before but perhaps I should from now on. Bunches of cut heather and roses decorate the dressing table and a pink satin dressing gown hangs on the back of her door. For the first time, I realise that I haven't been to her flat and wonder if it's decorated similarly. I really need to start to show an interest in people. My future career requires me to be observant and to see things others might miss, so I guess I should start paying attention far more now.

"You're talking crap, Eddie," she grumbles, trying to sit up.

"I'm not screwing him, Anna! Shit! Exactly when did I have the time to do any of that? I was running around like their man servant last night, cleaning and scrubbing and picking up discarded toys, condoms and crap, and then I came to look after you. Exactly when did I have a chance to fuck anyone? It's me that hasn't had an orgasm in eleven days! Not you! Me! The idiot arse wipe that's followed their fucking bidding not to touch myself! Yeah! That's right, ME! And for what? Huh? I seem to remember you cumming in my mouth last night, you were quite happy for me to make you cum, weren't you? Katy and Carlisle also got off. I'm the only fucker who hasn't cum yet!"

"Oh shut up, Edward. You're behaving like some prepubescent girl! You signed up for this so stop whining like a brat. Well, whatever, it fucking well looks like there's something going on between you two and if you don't stop him looking at you with cow eyes, Carlisle and Katy will soon cotton on. He can't keep his eyes, or hands off of you. I'm betting that it could just have something to do with the impromptu hand job you gave him last night. Don't you think?" she says, sounding weary as she wraps herself in the pink tasselled throw that sits on top of her bed linen and lays back down again.

"Fuck off. You shouldn't have been listening in, Anna. It was between him and me. Not you. And it's none of your business AND I don't want to talk about it," I huff. "AND I still didn't get to cum. Anyway, stop talking about it now. It doesn't matter anymore," I say, turning around to look at her. She's almost grey and there's a light sweaty sheen covering her face. In truth, she looks awful. "Be honest now, how are you feeling? You look lousy, and oh, yeah, you're welcome for what I did last night. Thanks for the gratitude."

"If you'd wanted gratitude, you should have chosen a different person to have as a friend… I'm an ungrateful shrew, remember?" she grumbles. She flinches as she moves on the mattress and for a minute it looks like she's going to vomit. "And if you hadn't wanted an audience, you shouldn't have jerked him off whilst standing next to my bed. You idiot. You really prove the saying right."

"What saying?" I ask.

"That those with the most intelligence have the least semblance of common sense," she says.

She has a point. "Thanks for that. And I didn't exactly choose you, did I?" I say, laughing, "And just to let you know, whether you are a mouthy shrew or not, you're my friend and I wouldn't have you any other way." I finish reaching forwards to stroke her hair.

She stares at me for a long minute before a tear trickles down her cheek. "Thank you. You know what you mean to me already, don't you? Oh God… I hurt, Eddie," she whimpers. "I really hurt. I need some pain killers. I've never known pain like it. It hurts into my bones. Can you get them for me? Ask Master Carlisle for something strong again? He gave me an injection last night and some pills in the night, but they didn't work as well as the first stuff. I need something like the injection again. Ask him for me. Please?"

"Yeah… I'll go and get you something. And he's some fucking '_Master,'_ isn't he? He's turned out to be nothing but another disappointment to me… what a surprise..." I mutter. "Fucker…"

"Don't say that, Edward," she sighs. "I knew the rules, I signed up to be punished and shared at will. I like it. I like being shared and I like being punished, you know I do. Please be nice about him. He's a kind man… and I'm very fond of him… it's just my bad luck that he's head over heels for his other, ungrateful, mouthy submissive and not for me… you won't ever experience what I did last night. You know you won't be shared and I will be. I've been shared before, by several dominants at a time and I really like it. Please don't over react. I know my place."

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, frowning.

"I mean that I come after you with Carlisle in the pecking order and oddly, after last night, I'm okay with that. And I really do doubt you'll be shared… I really don't think that he'd ever let anyone else… shit… touch you… oh fuck…" she continues, breathing heavily as she screws her face up.

"What?" I ask. "What's the matter?"

"I hurt…" she whines and her entire body shudders. "My back… my chest… even breathing…"

"Oh fuck, Anna! Don't move! I'll be right back!" I say as I yank on my ridiculous feathered thong mid-run and leave the room. I haven't got anything else to wear and now that the play weekend is drawing to a close, I don't want to shock anyone whom might not be involved in the lifestyle by wandering around wearing fuck all. Mind you, saying that, I doubt that a thong made from goose feathers would be exactly a normal outfit to anyone else either.

"TOM!" I yell from the landing as I look over to the ground floor. "TOM! ARE YOU THERE? TOM! QUICKLY! I NEED YOU! TOM! "

"Yes, Master Cullen, what do you want?" he asks, coming out of my bedroom door.

"What were you doing in there?" I ask, scowling. "Why were you in there? You knew I was with Annabelle, so why did you go into my room?"

"I was topping up your fire, Sir. You said you were cold so I thought I'd get it really warm before I came to see if you wanted me to run you a bath. I was laying your clothes out for today so that they would be warm when you dressed, why?" he asks.

"Nothing, don't worry about it. It isn't important now," I say, feeling guilty that he's been running around after me like this. He isn't a servant and I don't want him thinking that he has to do all of this shit. "I need some pain relief for Annabelle. She's really suffering; do you have anything to help her? And you didn't need to do all that for me, Tom, I can look after myself," I postulate sounding like an ungrateful git.

"No, Sir," he says as he walks passed me, "But I'll go and ask Master Carlisle for something. Okay? And just to let you know, I'm not 'running around' after you. Part of my job is to look after Master Carlisle's friends and guests, so please allow me to do my job, Mister Cullen."

"Um… Tom…" I say, "Why are you being so formal with me again? You weren't like this last night. What's the matter?"

"Well last night was last night and in the cold light of day, I thought you'd prefer it this way. Keeping a professional distance, as it were. You seemed to regret touching me last night and I don't want to make you uncomfortable. Are you uncomfortable being near me?" he asks as his eyes land on my crotch.

"No… I'm not…" I say, staring at him and losing track of what I actually was doing a second before. Walking towards him, I press him against the wooden clad walls and leaning forwards, I put my hands on the panelling either side of his head and smile. "Do I look like I'm uncomfortable?"

"Yes, Sir," he grins, looking down at my crotch. "Actually, you do. Maybe one day, and one day soon, you'll let me help you with that particular problem? I'm a fast learner and would love you to be the one to teach me. Do you think you might be willing to do that?"

"Yes… I just might…" I whisper as I kiss him gently on the mouth, forgetting Anna briefly. I allow it to deepen a little, mindful of my morning breath before I pull back. "I guess we'll be back down here again soon. Carlisle mentioned that he comes down often in the colder weather. He also said something about a wild flower meadow? I'd like to see that. Perhaps you could show me?"

"With pleasure," he says as his fingers play with my left nipple. "But at this time of the year, there are no flowers to see. Just some sparse, dead grasses and leafless trees…"

"I've always been fascinated by dead grasses… and trees with no leaves…" I groan as his fingers stroke along the head of my cock through the feathers.

"Well you're in luck… there are lots of varieties there…" he says as I forget my stale breath and kiss him properly.

"Now," I say, pulling back, "Where are the pain killers for Anna?"

"Go back to her, Edward," he says, nodding as he shoves his hand inside his jeans and readjusts his cock. "I'll go and get something for her from the Master."

Nodding, I nip into my bedroom, rip off my thong and pull on a pair of boxer shorts and a long sleeved t-shirt before I belt back along the corridor to Anna, just as Carlisle bends over her.

"Roll over, sweetheart," he says, gently. "Let me have a look and see how you are today. I'm expecting it to look much worse this morning, love because the bruising will have come to the surface. Let me see, please. I know it hurts, baby…" he coos as he rolls her. "Oh," he states, flatly. "Right, I'm going to give you another injection for the pain and when you've had half an hour for it to kick in, I want you to shower and try to come down stairs for brunch. You need to walk around a bit to keep your circulation moving properly. And tomorrow, we will start you off on a course of Arnica tablets. I want you to stay with Katy and me this week. Okay? I want you to sleep in our bed and allow us to look after you. I expect the bruising to be healing quite well by the end of the week but for the foreseeable future, you will not be playing. We'll drive you to and fro to University and we'll see if we can get them to set you some course work to do at home, okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Master," she says, sounding much too happy considering she was so badly hurt. "You're so good to me."

I hardly listen to her as I walk towards the bed again. God only knows what my expression looks like because Tom grabs my upper arms and holds me still.

"_Don't do it, Edward,"_ he whispers into my ear. "_Breathe. Just calm down."_

Glowering at him, I shake him off and keep moving.

Part of me wishes I hadn't.

Shit.

I stop dead in my tracks when I see the back of her and every muscle and sinew in my entire body bulges and locks tightly in a bid to stop myself from hurtling across the room and ripping him away from her side. She looks like an over ripe banana and I clench my teeth and my fists in a bid to control myself. I want to punch Tom. I want to punch Carlisle. I want to punch the mirror and most of all I want to punch the bitch that hurt Anna like this.

"Is it bad, Eddie?" Anna asks, looking at me with frightened eyes as Carlisle pushes the needle into the fleshy part of her bum.

"No, not really," I lie. "It isn't much worse than last night, Anna. You'll be back to normal in a couple of days."

"You'd better learn to get a better poker face than that, Cullen," she chuckles before she winces, "If you're going to be a big shot lawyer, you'd better learn to become a better liar! Every criminal in the UK will run rings over you! I'm guessing that I'm a mess?"

"It is severe, Annabelle," Carlisle says, tightly. "I won't lie to you. You're going to be in a lot of pain for a few days. At least you won't scar because the skin hasn't been broken but you have deep tissue bruising. I've spoken to Caius. He has severely reprimanded Chastity and you know that the three of us need to have a little chat together about your behaviour too, don't you?"

"_Her behaviour?"_ I ask, quietly in disbelief at first. "Her behaviour, Carlisle? What the fucking hell are you talking about? HER BEHAVIOUR?" I bellow. "Are you insane? Have you LOOKED at her? Christ, Carlisle… if I had a submissive, I wouldn't let anyone do anything like that to her! Why the hell didn't you two watch her more closely? Were you too busy showing me off? Huh? God you both make me sick! I just don't understand how you could betray someone like this! She trusted you! We both did! We've handed our minds and bodies over to you two and if we can't trust you to look after our safety, what the hell hope is there for either of us? Huh? I signed up with you because of your reputation! Yeah! BIG mistake!" I finish, breathing heavily as adrenaline pounds through my blood, making my heart pound rapidly.

Carlisle turns to face me and smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. "Come down stairs and we'll discuss this _calmly_ when Anna is more comfortable, Edward, and when you aren't quite so angry and excitable. Perhaps before you over react, you should get all of the facts before you and examine the evidence. Lawyer style," he says, sarcastically as he raises an eyebrow at me before he covers Anna with the duvet and hands Tom his medical bag. "Put this is the boot of the car, please, Tom," he says, "And ensure you lock it properly and return the keys to me. There's a good boy," he says, as he scowls at me and leaves the room.

"Is he on the same planet as us?" I say turning to look at Tom who scowls at me before he follows Carlisle out of the room without saying another word. "Oh, I see. No one will say a word against the great and powerful doctor? He LET them hurt you, Anna! He SHARED you!"

"Come here…" she mumbles patting the side of the bed and wincing at the slight movement of her arm.

"I don't want to hurt you. If I sit on the bed, I might hurt you. Do you want some tea? This is cold. Let me go downstairs and ask Chancer or Mrs Chancer to make you something fresh. Okay?" I ramble.

"Stop fussing, Eddie," she sighs, touching my arm. "Sit here with me. Please. I want to talk to you. I need to explain a few things to you and Carlisle was absolutely right, you need the facts so that you calm the fuck down."

Doing as she asks, I lean over and cup her cheek. "Christ… you look exhausted, Anna."

"I'm really okay. It's easing off already. Whatever he gives me is brilliant. It takes the ache away almost straight away and anyway, I like pain. I've known that for a long time and am always trying to get Katy to hit me harder but she usually refuses. However often I shout _'green,_' Katy ignores me and keeps the pressure consistent. But last night was very different. Knowing I like pain is one thing, I just didn't know quite how much I _needed_ it. Until last night. I knew I liked much stronger pain than you do, but last night showed me quite how much I love it. You and I are very different, Edward but what you've also got to remember is that this world isn't all hearts, flowers and orgasms. It can become intense and can get out of hand at times. I think I know I pushed her too far last night and she wasn't trained well enough to know when to stop. We were both at fault."

"You wanted that?" I ask, stunned. "Shit… Anna…"

"Don't judge me, Eddie," she says.

"I'm not." I say, shaking my head. "Really, Anna, I'm not, I'm just trying to understand why because I'm really struggling here. You weren't just punished last night, you were beaten."

"I wasn't being punished, Eddie. It was an erotic beating for me," she says, smiling.

"You found that fucking erotic?" I gasp out.

"Yes," she says, attempting to shrug her sore shoulders.

"I don't get it… I'm trying not to say something that will upset you, Anna, but I don't understand this at all. I could barely handle what Katy did to me yesterday and you were fucking crying when you came upstairs! And you wanted this?"

"I was crying because Katy stopped and wouldn't give me anymore, Eddie! She sent me to bed! I was so turned on that it was driving me crazy!"

"Shit…" I mutter. "I didn't know… I didn't know…" I finish, dropping my head into my hands.

"Okay. Let me try to help you understand my point of view. I like pain, Edward, it might sound odd to you, but I do. When I was a little girl, I used to play with needles and would slide the metal under layers of my skin and make pretty patterns. You know? Flowers, star bursts and all that shit. I loved it. Sometimes I would even use embroidery thread to make it look even nicer and leave it in place for a while. My mother used to freak out and I was never sure whether I did it to upset her or because I liked the way it felt. I guess I now know! I used to play with the wax from candles and would light a match and hold my hand as close to it as I could without forming a blister. Don't look at me like that. Just listen to me. Anyway, last night really was my own fault because whatever she did to me or made me do to her, I just kept saying green. And I knew that was a dangerous thing to do but I liked it. I'd never gone down on a woman before last night either and let me tell you, I fucking loved it! I wanted more pain and more orgasms and more of everything. Right up until I passed out, I kept orgasming. It was amazing, I loved it, I've never felt anything like it, ever. When she pressed her hands around my throat so that I couldn't breathe whilst she was fucking me with a strap on, I was euphoric. Only now do I know how bad it could have been, but at the time, the fact that I couldn't breathe made every thrust and touch so intense, I felt like I was being electrocuted. Master Caius went absolutely insane when he saw the state I was in and I thought that Master Carlisle was going to kill them both. Katy physically picked Chastity up and slammed her against a wall, but I don't remember much else after that. So you see, he came to my rescue. They both saved me from myself."

I stare at her and sigh. "I know he cares about us, Anna, I do. And Katy as well. But I don't know if it's enough for me. This has scared me, it really has. Who the fuck will he give me to? Will he hand me over to her?"

"Like I said, Eddie," she says, smiling sadly, "I doubt you'll ever have to find out."

"Come on," I say, changing the subject, "Let's get you cleaned up."

Just as I go to lift her out of bed, a light tap on the door makes me turn around. "Who is it?"

"It's Tom, Sir, I wondered if you'd like some help."

"Um… can he help me get you ready, Anna?" I ask.

"Yes," she says, "He's helped me before. I'm not embarrassed about him seeing me naked. He's gay, Eddie, my cooch and flat boobs won't do anything for him!"

"Come in please, Tom," I say.

He busies himself, running a warm, arnica and sea salt infused bath whilst I brush the knots out of her hair as gently as I can. She shows me how to spray a detangling lotion in so that the comb slides though more easily and hurts her less.

"Considering that you like a lot of pain," I chuckle as I try to part a large knot underneath her hair, "You certainly whine like a baby when you're having your hair brushed!"

"Yes, well," she says, "I might be a masochist, but I'm not that much of a pain slut! Having your hair brushed fucking hurts!"

Picking her up, she snuggles her head under my chin as I carry her into the bathroom. When I lower her into the water, she smiles and squeezes my fingers assuring me that the pain killers have kicked in and that she feels fine.

"Can you get my clothes out of my bag please, Tom?" she asks.

"Of course, Miss," he says, leaving the room for a little while.

When he's been gone for ten minutes, I leave the bathroom to see what he's doing, I watch as he bends over the now made bed as he lays her things out on it on top of the soft velvet. Sadly, she has brought nothing but a pair of skin tight jeans to wear for our journey home and there's no way I'm going to let her wear those.

"Tom, do you have a pair of spare track suit bottoms or anything loose and soft that Annabelle could wear to travel back to town in?" I ask.

"I went downstairs and got a pair of my mother's leggings, Mr Cullen," he says, "and a loose t-shirt that belongs to my dad. Is that okay?"

"Wow. Ten paces ahead of me already, Tom, well done," I grin as I reach over and touch his hand so that we walk back into the bathroom hand in hand.

"Pack it in you two," Anna sighs. "You're all gooey together, and frankly, it's fucking nauseating. You do know that they will guess that something's up when they see you together and you're both in big shit if you don't stop it now."

Grinning at Tom, I nod and he smiles back as he answers her. "I don't know what you're talking about, Miss Anna. Master Cullen and I were merely talking," Tom says as he lets go of me and uses the hand held shower attachment to wash her hair as she groans at our stupidity and lies back in the warm water.

After drying her, I help her to dress whilst Tom cleans up the bathroom and I tell her to wear no underwear because the elastic will press on her bruises.

Leaving Tom to roughly dry Anna's hair, I nip back to my own room and have a quick shower to freshen myself up. After towel drying my hair, I look at myself in the mirror. I look absolutely trashed with large violet rings around my eyes and a thick scruff on my cheeks and chin. Sighing, I ruffle my hair before I pull on my jeans after I quickly pack my possessions and uni work away, so that I'm ready to leave as soon as the Hale's decree that we're leaving.

Rolling my neck, I yawn loudly. Slowing my walk, I can hear Anna and Tom chatting as I walk down the corridor and stand outside the door listening to their conversation.

"… _Carlisle will chop your balls off if you touch him, Tom. You're a great bloke so please listen to me, this is serious. He loves Edward."_

"What do you mean?" Tom asks, sounding shocked. "He can't. He can't do that! He's married to the Mistress, how can he love Edward?"

"It's possible to love more than one person at a time, Tom, it is. I promise you. Just watch him when he's in the same room as Eddie. He's like a moth to a flame. It's completely obvious that he's head over heels over the pretty ginger bastard. Just be careful, because you will be hurt. He has no intention of having a relationship with anyone, we've spoken about it and he means that. You will get your heart broken and your arse will never recover if that fucking monster goes near it. I can't get it down my throat and it certainly isn't going anywhere near my bum…"

What? Carlisle loves me? What the fuck is she talking about? No one loves me and I love no one! God she's melodramatic and if that's what love is like, forget it, I'm really not interested. And she's calling me _ginger? _And fucking pretty again? Fuck it all!

"… he's lovely, Miss Anna, but I promise you, I won't over step my boundaries. I love my job and the Hale's are inextricably linked to my family in more ways than you can ever know."

"Linked? How… what do you mean?" she asks, sounding confused.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter…" Tom mutters as I push the door open.

"Come on, you two," I say, smiling tightly, "Let's head down stairs, it's five to eleven and we don't want to piss off our omnipotent leaders, do we?"

"If you go down stairs with that kind of attitude," Anna says, huffing as she tries to stand up from the dressing table, "Your arse will be blacker than mine before we leave here!"

"Tom," I say, "Can you help me with something in my room, please? Anna, sit down, I won't be a minute."

Without giving them a chance to argue, I stalk down the corridor and head into my room once more.

"Yes, Sir? What can I help you with?" he asks.

"What do you mean that your family is linked to the Hale's?"

"I thought you might be listening," he says, gently. "Well, it isn't a secret, not really, but it isn't general knowledge either so please don't say anything to anyone, not even Miss Anna."

"Yes, yes, I promise. Come on, tell me," I say.

"Mr Carlisle's great grandmother was the sister of my father's great grandmother. He married completely out of his class and it caused no end of trouble but they were happy and she became very gentrified. They ended up moving to the United States where no one knew of their backgrounds and it was only after his parents died that he moved back here and built the house that the scandal sort of died away. People today don't really care but in those days, the classes were kept totally separate and it was a huge thing."

"Oh. Doesn't it feel weird that you look after Carlisle and his family?" I ask.

"No. The Hale's looked after us in those days. They ensured my family had a home and work when others were struggling having no work and not enough to eat. We might look after them but we don't get treated badly. We aren't family. Not really. The blood line is diluted and none of us think of the other side as family, but we really are closely linked. Don't look shocked, Edward. It might not work for you but it does for us, now come on, Miss Anna is ready to go downstairs for brunch. Let's not keep anyone waiting, shall we?"

"Yes, okay."

We all but carry her down the wide staircase, linking arms and fingers, putting them beneath her bum in a sort of chair. Every step makes her inhale sharply but being the stubborn cow she is, she just keeps on going and plasters a fake smile on her tight, dry looking lips. I try to carry her properly but she refuses to let me and in a way I'm relieved, I'm tired and wouldn't trust myself not to drop her. It doesn't help that my hand slips in Tom's slightly sweaty one and every time that happens, our eyes lock and he blushes an even darker shade of red.

A low murmur of voices directs me towards the dining room and just before we enter, Mrs Chancer comes out carrying a domed salver.

"Good morning, Miss, good morning, Sir," she says, with an air of deference as her eyes flash between her son and me. "Tom, Mrs Hale says that you'll be needed in the dining room for a little while to help serve Miss Anna her brunch and then please come to the kitchen, to help your father," she says before she bustles away.

"Are you in trouble?" I ask him, frowning.

"No. But she says I need to 'remember my place' and not get any wild ideas that you and I are going to be close friends," he says, smiling wryly.

"_Christ… is there anyone who hasn't noticed, Tom?"_ I hiss out and he frowns and shakes his head.

"Sorry, Edward, I need to stop talking about you I guess," he says.

"_Yes, you do, and so do you, Annabelle!"_ I say, sharply.

She grins and ignores me.

Tom leads us into the huge room and grips Anna's arm tightly as he helps me to hold her up. My stomach grumbles loudly at the delicious smells emanating from the food and our shoes clump on the wooden flooring, alerting our hosts to our arrival.

A large, mahogany refectory style table sits along the wall just inside the door. It's covered with silver domed platters and bowls of cereals, croissants, pastries, hot toast, pots of coffee and tea and jugs of various fruit juices. It all looks absolutely delicious. A large fire roars in the hearth and the room is lovely, welcoming and warm. Carlisle, Katy and a man I don't recognise is sitting next to Katy, laughing loudly as he pours himself a cup of tea.

Four large ceiling to floor windows are hung with heavy, tapestry like curtains and there are matching, intricately patterned blinds that are pulled three quarters of the way down, keeping the light out and the warmth in.

The table is enormous and both it, and the eighteen chairs are made from the same rich, deep mahogany as the refectory table and it gives a warm feeling to the cavernous space. I vaguely remember that most of the brown furniture in the Highgate house looks similar to this, only far less elaborate and carved. This is all much grander in its design and I remember that the executor told me that most of the furniture was Georgian antiques and that the furniture alone was worth many hundreds of thousands of pounds. It meant nothing to me then but now I really do think that I need to go 'home' and investigate exactly what that particular house holds in regards to my past and perhaps my present.

The china is bright blue and white with a willow pattern on it and I vaguely remember my granny having something similar on a dresser in her kitchen. I think she said it was really old but I can't remember. I'm not interested in any of that shit. It looks pretty any way. A large jug of red roses sits in the middle of the table, next to a bowl of pastries and a large dish of butter.

"Good morning, chickens!" Katy says brightly as she notices us for the first time. "Come and sit down and have some food. How did you sleep? Are you feeling better now, Annabelle?"

We don't respond to her as we lead Annabelle across the dining room. Her walk is slower than it was coming down the stairs and Tom and I are almost holding her up now. She is hobbling and winces with every step she takes and every time her foot moves forwards, she inhales sharply. As Katy stands to help her, Carlisle and the man sitting next to him look at one another and an expression of something akin to fear flashes across their faces.

"Do you want to eat in your room?" Carlisle asks from his side of the table as he continues to eat something that looks horribly like devilled kidneys. My father used to eat those and I felt sick then as well.

Christ, I want to go back to Cambridge. There are seven hundred post graduates studying at any one time in the Faculty of Law, and I love it there. I love that I can hide in the recesses of the ancient buildings and become almost invisible. I could have grabbed my books and spent the entire weekend in the library, losing myself in old cases. What a disappointing waste of time the last two days have been.

"John will carry you upstairs and look after you, Anna," Katy says as she helps her to sit down after she's put a cushion on her chair. "And then you can lie down in the back of the car on the journey home. Edward will be sitting in the small seats in the boot. Okay?"

"No, thank you," Annabelle says. "I'm sore but I'm okay. I want to stay down here with you all. I need to watch him," she says, pointing to me. "He's teetering on the edge, far more than I am. Please don't worry. Really. Edward's worrying quite enough for all of us, and I'm sure he'll help me get my food," she says, smiling at me.

The British aristocracy is rarely served breakfast. It's usually laid out, buffet style, and they help themselves. It's seen as somewhat 'common' to ask one's staff to serve you at this meal. I have no idea why, but that's the way it is and Carlisle and Katy seem to be upholding this tradition. I remember my father commenting to our housekeeper, after he'd been to stay with someone he considered terribly middle-class, that he knew for certain now that they were nothing but nouveau riche upstarts because they insisted on their liveried staff serving their guests breakfast. I didn't know what he meant about their level of class, other than that he was being nothing but a spiteful bastard.

"Are you okay, Edward?" Carlisle asks as I turn and shoot daggers at him from my eyes.

"I'm fine, Carlisle," I say, totally breaking my submissive's protocol. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm looking forward to returning to Cambridge at the earliest possible opportunity. Could you drop me at my flat please? I intend to drive straight back this afternoon after I've picked up a few bits from my flat."

"Of course we can," he says as he stands to pour Anna some juice. "And I see you've decided to end this weekend already? You aren't using our correct names anymore?"

"I need this weekend to end right now, please, Carlisle. I know you didn't plan for Anna to get hurt and you did warn me that BDSM can be dangerous in the wrong hands but I don't think I was prepared for how I would feel when I saw it." I say, honestly. "I'm sorry if this seems disrespectful to you both, but I need some time to think things through. Anna may be fine with this level of pain, but I know for a fact now that I'm not. The way you punished me, Katy, that was very different for me. I liked that. I liked it very much. The way Anna was whipped is just too much. I can't understand how or why she liked it, and I get that it's her choice, not mine, but I need some time to myself to think things over. Do you understand why?"

"Yes." Carlisle says quietly. "I will miss you, Edward, but I will leave you alone for a few days and let you have time to think. You experienced sub-space on Friday night which can be frightening but then seeing last night's disaster; well… yes… it was too much in one weekend for someone so new to the world to have to experience. I know precisely how you feel, because I left the lifestyle briefly when I had a crisis of confidence. Take your time and I hope you'll come back to me."

"To us," Katy says, clutching his fingers. "Please come back to us."

"Yes, to us…" he says looking at his wife and having the decency to blush.

"Miss Anna," Tom says, bending down, "What can I get you for brunch?"

"Oh, um…" she says, looking towards the groaning selection. "Some French toast, tomatoes, bacon, mushrooms and a poached eggs, please," she grins. "Oh and a couple of kidneys too if Master Carlisle has left any for me!"

"Hungry?" I ask, raising an eyebrow as I sit down beside her.

"Starving! I know you find it hard to believe, Eddie, but I loved last night and I used up so many calories! Can I have some orange juice, porridge with cream and blueberries and some brown sauce on my bacon, please, Tom?" she asks, grinning. "Oh and can you add two sausages, please?"

"Please get yourself some food, Edward," Carlisle says. "You need nourishment before you drive this afternoon, okay?"

Nodding, I stand up and help myself to scrambled egg, black pudding, bacon, sausages, mushrooms and toast, before I pour myself some tomato juice.

As I sit down, I frown at the man sitting opposite me who hasn't stop staring at me yet. "Can I help you?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. "You seem to find me fascinating, Sir. What do you want?" I say, somewhat rudely for me.

"Edward," Carlisle says, sighing, "I know that you're not yourself today but please remember your manners and treat my guest with respect."

"Sorry," I say looking at the man and nodding my head curtly. He is a pleasant looking man with mid brown, floppy, soft looking hair. His vivid turquoise eyes bore into me and his face is impassive as he watches my every movement.

"This gentleman is Master John Smythson. He is, like me, a BDSM Master, Edward. And in many ways, he is far stronger than I am. He is becoming almost as much in demand as we are in many circles and Annabelle has met John several times before and has played with him on occasion too. He is highly respected and has many skills that we use to benefit our small soirees and gatherings. Treat him with the respect I demand. Thank you."

"Hello, Master John!" Anna says, waving her fork around. Christ only knows what Carlisle injected her with but right now, she's behaving as if she's as high as a kite.

"Anna, my darling girl, how are you today?" the man asks.

"Much better now, thank you," she says around a mouthful of semi masticated toast. "Eddie! You should do a scene with Master John! He is lovely when he fucks you! His cock is really cute—big—but wonderful and he has amazing stamina. It has a little kink in it that hits your g-spot with every thrust and I cum like a geyser with him! I know you don't have a g-spot but he could make you fly if he pressed on your prostate. Sorry," she says, blushing as she looks around, "I think I should shut up… the pain killers… um…"

"Don't be embarrassed, Anna," the man chuckles, "My cock has never been called cute before! I think you should shush now and eat your breakfast, there's a good girl."

"Sorry about that, John," Carlisle chuckles, "Those pain killers are notorious for lowering inhibitions, not that madam here needs much help with that!"

"It's fine, Carlisle, I have no problem with this lovely girl singing my praises," he says as he raises her fingers and kisses them gently.

"Anyway, John stayed here last night. He wanted to be here to help me explain things to you both this morning, Edward. He's perfectly placed to do so because what neither of you know is that he started training Chastity last year but she was too wilful and he had no choice but to let her go. She trained as a submissive in Norwich and moved down here a few months before she signed a contract with John. None of us were aware that Caius decided to train her until last night and so it was a shock to see her with him. We all want to try to reiterate to you that what happened here last night is a rarity in our world, I promise you it is. The vast majority of us take the utmost care when we deal with our property. The gift you give to us is one to be nurtured, cherished and adored. The gift of submission is something that is a blessing, not a right. Discipline and restraint is the greatest sign of a proper master or mistress, Edward. What occurred with Chastity is the dark side of our world that few speak of but it is best to know that it happens. John wants to spend a little bit of time with you both, checking that you are okay. He seems to think for some reason that I'm too close to you, Edward to be able to handle debriefing you and discussing the various scenes. Are you alright with this? John also stayed so that he could drive you home should you wish to return to London separately to us."

"Actually, I think it's a better idea, to be honest, Carlisle," I say, firmly. "I don't think you and I have anything to discuss right now and I need total separation from you for the next few days. From all of you. Do you understand why I need this? It's not that I don't want to see you again, I just need some time."

Carlisle's face falls but he nods in resignation and stands, folding his napkin and leaves the table with Katy and Tom behind him. "Yes, if that's what you want, Edward, I will abide by your wishes. Contact me when you've had time to think things over, please. And just to let you know, we'll all miss you."

"Let's begin, shall we?" John says as Annabelle and I nod and the door closes quietly behind Tom. "You may continue to eat but I would be most grateful if neither of you interrupt me whilst I speak. Is that understood? I might not be your Master but I demand the utmost respect from both of you. Yes?"

"Yes," I say shrugging.

"Yes, Master John," Annabelle says, far more respectfully. "I understand."

"Master Caius was right about one thing, young man," he says, chuckling. "You most certainly do have fire in your belly and that fire could get you into serious trouble if you don't learn how to handle it," he says, grinning. I wasn't expecting that. "And they are all right. You truly are beautiful but you need to learn to behave with manners and decorum in our world or you won't last very long, no matter how good looking or well-endowed you are. Is that understood?"

He likes saying that.

Nodding, I sit silently for the next hour, quietly eating as he breaks down the previous evenings chain of events into simple, understandable bite sized pieces of information that makes it far easier to digest.

Many of the things he tells us makes sense, and I know that to some extent, I've over reacted to what I saw the previous night. But seeing Annabelle in the condition that Caius's trainee left her in, has left me shocked to my very core.

"What you both need to realise is that a decent dominant and dominatrix knows how to push their submissive to the very edge of their limits. That's their roll. To give them exactly what they want and need, even if they don't know that they need that thing themselves. Our job is to read a submissives mind and body and to stop right on the brink of it being too much. Do you understand? It's a very, very difficult thing to achieve and can take many years of training and observation to reach that point. Only by learning, watching, listening and keeping vigilant, do we become adept at finding this pinnacle of domination. Sadly, what we witnessed last night was a trainee dominatrix who didn't know when her submissive had had enough, despite the fact that she was screaming for more. It's a very fine line to walk and one that is very easy to cross, and easy to do innocently and without malice. That's why a trainee submissive and dominant must always be supervised by one who is far and away more experienced than they are. Then that line is much less likely to be crossed."

"Have you crossed it?" I ask, despite being told not to speak. I can't help it, I need to know this. "Sorry. Sorry, Master John, I'm sorry to speak when you asked me not to, but after last night my head is reeling and I have to know."

"It's okay. Yes, you do need to know these things and in many ways, this morning is more of a tutorial in the dangers of BDSM in the wrong hands, so I think you should ask me questions now. Both of you, but mainly you I think, Edward," he says, smiling.

"Thank you and sorry I interrupted, I got a bit carried away," I grin. "Have you?"

"I think getting carried away might just be your biggest weakness, that and being a little too confrontational, don't you think?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at me as he laces his fingers on the table in front of him.

Sighing, I nod. "Yes, perhaps. I'm not used to not being in charge of a situation or not being the best at something. That might sound arrogant but it's true and it is partly why I signed up to this lifestyle. Because I want to learn this lesson. I wanted to hand over that role. I mean, I don't always want to start off naturally good at something if that makes sense? I want to learn from the best and I was told that the Hales are just that. I know I'm an outspoken little sod, I try to keep quiet, but I do struggle not to speak or to at least try to make my point. Carlisle and Katy have been very patient with me and I will try harder, Master John. I will. I promise, I owe them that much at least."

"I hope you mean that. I really do, because if you put in just a little bit more effort, I think you have the makings of a wonderful toy for a dominant to mould into his or her idea of perfection. I watched you last night. When you were doing as Carlisle and Katy told you to, you were really quite beautiful to watch, as you moved around. The outfit was quite lovely too and you looked like an angel as you tidied and interacted with Tom. You were oblivious to all the admiring glances and that was even more appealing, because I didn't believe Annabelle when she said that you have no idea how good looking you are, but she's right, you don't. In fact, you seem uncomfortable when anyone praises you physically, you are, aren't you?"

Squirming, I crumble the edge of a piece of toast. "I don't like it much, no. I don't understand why everyone gets so hung up on what I look like. It doesn't make me a nice person."

"No, maybe it doesn't but its easy for someone who is beautiful to be blasé about that fact. Let me tell you, Edward, there were several disgruntled submissives of both genders here last night, because their owners were much too busy watching you to pay them proper attention," he laughs.

"I don't know what you mean?" I say, frowning. "Who was watching me?"

"Oh, Edward," Anna laughs, "You don't see what others see, do you? You're prettier than most girls! No one else gets a look in when you're around, sweetie!"

"Shut the hell up! I'm not pretty!" I say slamming my fist on the table. "I'm a man, Annabelle, not a bloody girl! I don't want to be fucking pretty!"

"You might not want to be, but you are! Even with a face covered in ginger fluff, you're still prettier than I am!" she cackles away.

Sigh.

"For the last time, I'm not pretty and I DON'T HAVE FUCKING GINGER FLUFF ON MY FACE! IT'S BRONZE!" I bark out at her, before I flick my jam covered knife in her direction. The splat hits her on the arm and she laughs loudly as she licks it off.

"Thanks for that, I was wondering which jam I should put on the next slice of toast that you're going to walk over there and get for me!" she sniggers.

Sighing, I shake my head. "Get your own fucking toast," I grumble, but I don't really mean it and before I've even finished my sentence, I stand and grab two slices of granary toast for her.

"White bread, Eddie!" she whines, "I want white bread!"

"For Christ's sake, Anna! Stop being a brat!" I exclaim before I fling two slices of white toast at her.

"Now, now, children, no squabbling!" John laughs as he pushes the dish of greengage jam towards Anna and wags his finger at her. "And in response to your earlier question, Edward, the answer is yes. Yes, a couple of times I have over stepped the mark with a submissive and hit them much too hard and for far too long. It goes with the territory when you're training but you have to be aware that it's best to give them too little rather than too much. You can't undo what has been done and during the after scene discussion, the submissive can express a desire for more power and frequency. Now, Edward," he says, "Carlisle seems to think you might be a switch and that perhaps Annabelle is too. How do you both feel about that?"

"He's told me that a couple of times," I say, nodding as I stuff the final corner of my toast and marmalade into my mouth. "I don't know how I feel about that. I don't think I could hurt someone or boss them about, but I do like watching impact play. I find that more arousing than actually watching the sex acts themselves," I explain.

"Are you KIDDING me?" Anna guffaws. "You don't like bossing people around? HAHAHAHAHAHA! You're the bossiest bugger I've ever met!"

"Shut up, Anna," I sigh.

"She has a point, Edward. You are bossy, and mouthy! How about whilst you're thinking whether you want to stay in the lifestyle or not, you think about this too?" he says.

"Yes, perhaps I should," I say, nonchalantly.

But having observed you and the way you care for your friend and the precision that you do everything with, I think you might lean far more towards being a dominant than a submissive or a switch. What do you think?"

"A dominant? Me?" I ask, shocked. "You think I'm a dominant?"

"Yes. I think that you have the potential to be a dominant and a good one. I can't see you staying as a submissive for very long. I do think it will be greatly beneficial if you can finish your training. All the best dominants start off as submissives and as such they can empathise with their submissive during play time. Think about it. Katy and I were discussing this when you both arrived this morning and after chatting to Tom as well earlier, I think I'm right. Here's my card, Edward," he says, "If you have any questions, text or email me. Carlisle has given his permission, as has Katy. Anna contacts me now and then when she has a question, don't you, love?"

"Yes, I do," she says, suddenly serious. "Do you think that last night was my fault?" Annabelle scowls, playing with the crumbs on her side plate. "Because I kept asking Chastity to give me more, it's my fault that she did as I asked and hurt me? Shit…"

"No, Anna, it wasn't your fault, love," John says, smiling. "If anyone is to blame, it's Caius and Carlisle. They shouldn't have left Chastity on her own with you and I've bollocked them both out for that. Chastity isn't welcome in this house again and I've made it clear that she won't be welcome in most establishments in London to play for a short while either. I have already emailed most of the better known clubs explaining that she shouldn't be allowed to perform publicly with a submissive for some time and Caius has agreed that she needs at least another six months serious training before she is allowed loose on a submissive away from their domain again."

"Why did you yell at them?" I ask, confused.

"My job last night was to be the Dungeon Keeper," he says, smiling at me.

I have no idea what the hell that is but he looks inordinately proud of himself. "Okay…" I say slowly as I look at Anna and she grins. "I have no idea what you mean by that, it sounds like some sort of pervy computer game, but okay."

"Hahahaha!" John laughs, "You are very funny! No, it simply means that I was in charge of safety and had to ensure that everything ran as it should, Edward. It's vital that someone who isn't playing ensures that every protocol is adhered to and last night, that responsibility befell me."

"I didn't know that would be needed," I answer, honestly.

"Oh yes, it is. All the best organised parties ensure that there is security of some description, and now you see why it is vital that someone is monitoring scenes closely," he continues.

"It didn't stop Anna getting hurt though, did it?" I ask, folding my arms across my chest. "Where were you when she was getting beaten? Nothing protected her from that sadistic bitch then, did it?"

"I can only do my job if I'm kept in the loop as it were, and yes, you're right, I should have known that a trainee dominatrix was playing with a trainee submissive for the first time. I wasn't told this so as you can imagine, I wasn't a happy bunny that I wasn't given the details. If I had been, I would have been in the ante room with them as they played. And so, yes, Master Cullen, I bollocked the two respective dominants out for their tardiness and had to stop Carlisle from beating Caius to a pulp for doing what he let Chastity do.. I've never seen Carlisle so angry before and if fucking Caius had been on the ball, it wouldn't have happened in the first place. If he hadn't been so busy sniffing around after you, Edward, and wasn't behaving like a horny teenager rather than a master and monitoring what his girl was doing, it wouldn't have occurred. Instead, he was like a rutting stag, trying to get you on your own, pin you in a corner and have a quick grope whilst he thought no one was watching. But we were. We were all watching him as he was watching you, I can promise you. Carlisle made sure that you were safe and I can assure you, we all knew what Caius was doing, luckily you rebuffed his advances but that won't stop him trying again. Sadly, we weren't all quite so vigilant with Anna and for that, girl, I am deeply sorry."

"It's okay. I know Eddie is the flavour of the month. I also know that Carlisle is obsessed with him. He's pretty easy on everyone's eye. I heard the conversations last night. No one could stop looking at him and every single one of them wants to get their hands, and mouths, on that thing he attempts to hide in his thong because it truly is a sight to behold. I've never seen a cock like it. I really haven't and everyone wants a piece of him. And I can't possibly compare with him for Carlisle's affections. I'm okay with it now, I know he cares for me but he just doesn't fancy me like he does Edward."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Anna," John says, "They are both very fond of you too but Edward is like a shiny new toy. And frankly, would you want Caius to be following you around? I think not. He could be very problematical and I think we'll all need to watch this young man's back until he is diverted by someone else. I promise you, Edward, he's got his eye on you, boy. You'd better keep your wits about you. He's not used to being refused anything and he wants you. Every other dominant and dominatrix in our circle knows about his dark side and because of this, they are frightened of him. They always give him carte blanche with their submissives, but I know Carlisle won't let him anywhere near you. For now, anyway. Just remember, that won't stop him from pestering you."

"What about Caius's two submissives? What if she hurts them?" Anna asks; her eyes huge in her small face as she ignores what he's just said regarding me. "And how do we protect Edward?"

"There's little we can do about that. They are free to leave at any time but from what I've seen so far, they are utter pain sluts and are happy to have her train using them. If they can stand Caius whipping them until they bleed, they won't have a problem with Chastity beating them. And don't worry about Edward, love," he says, smiling, "It's not like Caius is going to kidnap him in the street but he will try to wear Carlisle down and might even go via Katy to try and get his hands on him. If Carlisle gets too obsessed with you, Katy might agree to Caius helping with your training to put a little bit of distance between you both. I'm guessing that you don't feel the same for Carlisle as he does for you?" he asks and as I shake my head he nods. "No, I didn't think so. Now, Edward, if they were to agree to letting Caius help train you, what would you do?"

Fuck…

"I'd end my contract with the Hale's and walk away." I say, flatly. "I want to learn and have fun; I don't want to be abused by that fucker and his nutty bitch!"

"Well, I wouldn't quite call what happened to Anna, abuse, because she wanted it, but I see your point." John admits, nodding and looking serious as he frowns in her direction. Anna and I look at one another but don't say anything. "Right," he says, "time is trotting on and I need to go and get packed and you two have to get yourselves ready to return to London. I have to take the twins to a party on HMS Belfast this afternoon. Joy, my wife, is suffering quite badly with morning sickness this time around, and is scared that she'll throw up over the side of the ship, so she'll stay at home with the baby, and I'll take the others out to give her a bit of peace and sort of quiet!" he says as Anna pours herself some more orange juice.

"How many kids do you have?" I ask him.

"We have the twins, Maurice and Daphne, who are seven, then there is William who is five, Ophelia is three, Winston who is two, Georgiana Elizabeth who is just over one and joy is four months pregnant with another set of bloody twins," he chuckles at my open mouthed expression. "My wife loves babies and so we just keep having them!"

"Blimey… eight children… I'm guessing she won't be back in the BDSM saddle for quite some time then?" I ask, inappropriately.

Luckily, he bursts out laughing and refills his cup from the thermos jug on the table. "Edward Cullen. I like you. I like you very much and I can see your appeal. You are beautiful, yes, but there's something else about you that is quite intriguing to me. You are honest and open and I think that you will be a fucking amazing submissive, or dominant, if you put your mind to it. God save the legal world when you're let loose on it. I can't imagine any judge yelling at you. He, or she, will be too mesmerised by your eyes alone to bollock you out for insubordination!"

"See?" Anna says, "He's even won you over, Master John! I told you that you wouldn't be able to resist him! No one can! Carlisle is head over heels and Katy indulges his every whim! He's a bastard but I love him!"

She loves me?

Shit… I don't want her to love me. Looking down, I fiddle with the edge of my napkin and don't say a word. The silence echoes around the space like another presence and in the end, John coughs to get my attention and smiles at me gently. "Don't you do emotions, boy?" he asks. "Every time someone says something nice about you, you look uncomfortable."

"No. I don't." I say.

"Well in that case, my assessment was right, you will do very well in our world and you will make an amazing lawyer if you can separate real life and emotions. Good luck. And in all honesty, I don't think you'll need it. I think you're charmed, young man."

I haven't got a clue what he's talking about.

"What area of the law are you thinking of specialising in, or don't you know yet?" he asks, eating a slice of toast and thick cut marmalade.

"Criminal law," I say, nodding. "I love the idea of being a prosecutor. I guess defence would do too, but I want to prosecute criminals and take them out of society."

"Why am I not surprised by that? You would be there in the middle of all of the action! You couldn't do anything staid like tax or family law, now could you? No. I can see you at the Bailey now, wearing a suit with the sun shining on your _'_bronze'—not ginger—of course, hair, with the jury hanging on your every bloody word," he says, chuckling, "and who knows? We might both end up in court on the same day!"

I don't dare ask what he means by that and I can only hope and pray that he isn't another lawyer, or even worse, a judge! How the hell would I be able to look him in the eye and give him my opening speech, if I'd been watching him fuck Annabelle the night before?

Dammit.

When he finishes drinking his coffee, he explains he'll be heading back to London in about half an hour and he'll wait for me, if I want to go with him.

"Thank you for helping me understand the lifestyle a little more, Master John," I say and standing up, he leaves us on our own with a warm, friendly smile and a hand shake.

"Will you stay with us, Eddie?" Annabelle asks, dabbing her mouth with her stiff linen napkin as she turns to look at me. "Will you? Katy thinks you won't, Carlisle hopes you will and I want you to. Please? I do love you; you know that, don't you?"

"I don't want to leave you all, Anna. Especially not you, but I do need a few days to think things over. Okay?" I say before I stand up. "I have to say one thing and I don't want to upset you. But please don't love me. I don't want anyone to love me. No one ever has and I don't love in return. You are my friend. That's enough for me."

"But friendship is love. Didn't you know that? I'm not in love with you, Eddie, but I do feel love for you. You're my best friend already. Don't you understand that?"

"You finish up here, and I'll go upstairs and pack your things. I think they're getting ready to leave. I can hear a car outside and doors slamming. I will travel back to town with John and let you have the back seat to lie on, Anna," I say, leaving the room, walking quickly away from the strange sensation prickling behind the back of my eyes at her words and hurtling myself towards the stairs, I want to run to my room and to listen to my mother's music.

Tom is hovering outside the dining room, obviously waiting for me and as soon as I close the door, he grabs my arm, yanking me towards him far more forcefully than I would have thought him capable of.

"_Are you coming back, Edward?"_ he asks in little more than a hushed whisper. _"Are you? You said we'd go to the meadow together! You did! You said you wanted to see the dead grasses! You said that! You did! Are you?"_

"_Shut up, Tom!"_ I hiss out looking around to check that we aren't being observed. "Are they all outside?"

"Yes, they're sorting out the backseat for Miss Anna to lie on. Why? Are you coming back or not?"

"I don't know yet. Probably. Yes. Yes, okay I will be back. I've already decided that none of this was really their fault but don't tell anyone just yet. Please. I want to have a couple of days to myself just to be sure that I'm making the right decision. Okay?" I say as I bound up the stairs two steps at a time. "I need to pack Anna's things away."

"I've already done that," he says, following me. "I've done her packing. And finished yours. Both of your bags are already in the car. I've left your coats and hats on your beds, but everything else has been packed already."

"Thank you, Tom," I say, smiling at him as I walk into my bedroom. "I'll need my bags putting into John's car, he's driving me home. I don't want to travel back with the Hale's today. Can you sort that out or do you want me to do it?"

"I'll do it in a minute. But first, Edward, can I kiss you? One last time? Just in case you don't come back?" he asks, quietly.

"I will be back, Tom. Don't be silly. You'll see me again." I huff as I try to get passed him. "Don't become a fucking drama queen all of a sudden. I don't find drama queens particularly appealing, in either sex. Now I need to clean my teeth and leave, I have to drive back to university this afternoon and I'm knackered, and that's before I read over my notes for tomorrow."

"I want to kiss you, Edward…" he says, walking towards me. He puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes me backwards against the wall. "Can I kiss you? No. No. I'm not asking you because I'm not going to give you the chance to say no to me this time. I'm going to fucking well kiss you whether you want me to or not…" he says as he wraps his arms around me. "I like this…" he murmurs, brushing his fingers through my facial stubble. "I like it."

"Huh. You're getting a little bit forceful, aren't we, Thomas?" I chuckle, raising an eyebrow as I raise my hands in mock submission. "What are you going to do to me?"

He doesn't respond, he just presses his thigh against my parted crotch and presses gently. At the same time, he slams his mouth against mine and kisses me frantically with more than an air of desperation as he sucks my tongue.

Shit!

He's a fucking quick learner but I'm not complaining and instead of pushing him away and behaving like a good and obedient submissive, my cock shuts down all logical thought and I go into auto pilot. I grab hold of his collar with one hand and his hair with the other, opening my mouth wider and deepening the kiss with a groan. I feel a strange bubble of emotion building in my chest as he gropes and fondles my chest and abdominals, but don't know what it is. It might be relief, familiarity, comfort, or a mixture of all three, I have no idea, but right now, I'm just going with the flow because I need this. I need to feel something other than fear and anger.

Tom's hand trails down my body and I shudder under his touch, kissing him more desperately, and before I know what's happened, he has undone the buttons of my jeans and freed my leaking erection.

"Fuck, Tom…" I moan as I kiss along his jaw. "You need to stop…" I begin as he wraps his hand around my cock and starts to move his fingers up and down firmly as I shimmy my knees so that my jeans slither down my legs. "Holy fuck…"

He is a REALLY quick learner.

"Jesus, Edward," he mutters, "Your cock is so big… I can't get my fingers all the way around it… fuck… I want you in my mouth… in my arse… I want you anyway you'll have me… fuck me… I want you… need you… tell me what to do… let me… please…"

I like hearing that. Whether I should or not, I do. As his hand starts to move more quickly, he fucks my mouth with his tongue and bangs me repeatedly against the wall hanging as we writhe and tussle with one another. Within minutes, I cum with a grunt and a violent shudder all over his hand and my jeans like some inexperienced thirteen year old.

Pulling back breathlessly, he looks at his liquid coated hand and smiles before he pulls it to his lips and swipes his tongue along his palm as he licks it clean.

"Fuck…" I pant out as he sucks three of his fingers into his mouth and moans as he slides them in and out. His mouth and face as pink and scraped from my scruff and I touch his cheek, and smile.

"You taste… fucking brilliant… much better… than I do… I wish you could spend the night with me, Edward," he says, "I want you to fuck me… I want you to cum in my mouth… say you'll do that… say you will?"

"Jesus… Tom…" I grumble. "Do you know… know what you've just done? I'm not supposed to masturbate without their permission, let alone let someone else wank me off…" I say as I wipe myself clean with a piece of tissue before I button up my flies again. "If they find out… I haven't cum for ten days… I've blown it… in… in more ways… ways… than one…"

"They won't find out. I promise you, they won't…" he says, grinning as he helps me on with my coat. "I won't tell them and I know that you won't. It's just between us. Promise me you'll come back to me soon. I've made my mind up. I want you to fuck me. Do I need to buy lubricant or do you have some?"

Shit.

"Don't get too carried away," I say, yanking my hat on before I pull my puffa jacket over my hair. "Really, Tom. Don't get ahead of yourself. I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet so don't count on anything happening between us any time soon. Or even ever. You're a good looking guy, go to a gay club, someone will take your fancy if you're as desperate to get fucked as that. Don't rely on me."

"I don't want anyone else to fuck me. I just want you. Now, I need a bit of help with the next bit. What do I have to do to make sure it doesn't hurt too much?" he says, blushing. "When you fuck me, I mean? I've used my fingers and can get two in there when I put soap on them, but that's not enough. You're massive, Edward so I know I need stretching more. What should I do?"

"If you're really serious about having anal sex, Tom, whether it's me or anyone else, buy yourself a butt plug. Get a small one and then move up to the next size. That will get your muscles used to being stretched. It's more than that, its teaching your body to get used to being penetrated. Your body's natural instinct is to shove out whatever gets pushed in so you need to teach it that it's normal. And get extra thick anal lube, don't skimp on that. Buy the best you can get. Okay?"

"God, this is so exciting…" he says as he adjusts his own cock and grins at me. "Did you do that? Did you practice with a plug?"

"No. I didn't. But I'm not bragging when I say that I haven't been anyone with a cock as big as mine. And never let anyone in there without a condom. Do you understand me? It isn't safe. You're more likely to bleed there than anywhere else so be careful. You might be a virgin, but I'm fucking not and anyone else you're with might not be as careful as I've always been. I've never fucked, nor been fucked without a condom, so look after yourself."

"What about the Hale's? You have sex with them, don't you?" he asks, scowling.

"Tom…" I warn.

"No, no, I don't want details, but I mean, if you have sex with them, do they use condoms too?" he asks, looking confused.

"I'm not discussing what happens between us, Tom. But as I said, I've never had anal sex without a condom, in fact, I've only had vanilla sex twice without a condom and neither of those were planned. Just don't take any silly risks, okay?" I say, firmly.

"Yes. Yes, I promise and I'll get some next week. Thank you, Edward; I don't know anything about any of this. And I don't have anyone else to ask. I can't really talk to my parents about this, they don't even know I'm gay, although I think my mother might suspect something. And the only other person I know who has sex with men is Carlisle and he's my boss so I can't ask him. Thank you… um… one more thing," he says.

"Make it quick, Tom, I have to go," I huff.

"Okay, sorry, but I want to know something. Tell me, please, does it hurt? Anal sex, I mean?"

Bless him.

"Yes, it does. You need to be really turned on and preferably have cum first to relax your muscles and once they are all the way in and you breath out a few times, it eases off and then becomes fucking brilliant, but you will hurt the next day and if you haven't had an enema, it's messy so be prepared to need clean bedding and a shower. Now, enough of the _'Bum Sex 101,_' discussions," I laugh, "I need to go home!"

"Can I email you?" he asks.

"No. I don't think that would be a good idea just yet, just in case you let anything slip and anyway, I haven't got time to chat to anyone over the next few weeks, university is going to get pretty manic I think. Anyway, I'll be back in a few weeks, I hope. Right, I have to go, keep quiet about what happened and I'll probably see you soon, okay?" I say, leaning forwards and kissing him on the tip of the nose as I zip my coat up.

As I come downstairs, John is leaning against the door frame watching me as he chats away into his mobile phone. Through the open door, I can see as Carlisle and Katy fuss about making sure that Anna is comfortable on the thick feather filled counterpane on the back seat of the car. Smiling to John, he looks from me to Tom and back to me again before he raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, yes… hold on a minute… wait a minute, Joy, I need to speak to someone… yes… don't hang up… Edward? Are you ready? You took your bloody time! I need to get going!" he says, sharply.

Ignoring him, I walk outside and watch as they cover her with blankets. They're both dressed casually in jeans and sweatshirts but they look far from relaxed as they fanny about and deep lines etch both their faces as they look at me.

"Are you travelling with me, Edward?" Katy asks, looking very serious. "I've made a space in the back for you to sit there so that Anna can lie down."

"No. Thank you, but no, I'll travel back with John and then I'll leave pretty much straight away and return to Cambridge. I have a couple of essays to tweak and I need to do a bit of food shopping as well as I've got a manic week ahead of me. Can I get my bags out of the back, please?" I say, smiling much too brightly. It's almost true. I do have a busy week but I could spare a few hours with them. I just choose not to, to be honest.

"Of course," Katy says, smiling sadly. "We'll miss you, love," she finishes as she hugs me and kisses me on the cheek. "I hope this isn't goodbye, Edward. I truly do," she continues as I dig about amongst the luggage, retrieving my own bags from the muddle in the boot.

Anna waves to me and Carlisle hugs me so tightly that he almost takes my breath away. _"Come back to me next weekend, Edward. Please… say you'll come back to me?"_ he whispers into my ear and as I look over his shoulder, John's face twists in emotion as he sees the sadness of his friend.

"I'll ring you on Wednesday or Thursday and give you my decision, okay?" I say quietly. "I promise you, I'll ring you." I say, stroking his face.

"You look lovely," he says, kissing me on my cheek. "I like the stubble, it feels amazing… keep it for next weekend…"

The journey back to London is very different. John is younger than Carlisle and drives a flash Audi sports car and insists on having the roof down even though it's fucking freezing. Loud music blares out and he chats away cordially for the entire drive. He breaks the speed limit constantly and I have to laugh when he tells me that he's a high ranking police officer with the Metropolitan Police.

"Thank God for that!" I laugh as I hang onto my hat as we hit the flyover, "I thought you were a judge and that I was going to come face to face with you in court that way!"

"No, but I work for the CID murder squad so if you do become a prosecutor, I might just be in court with you one day! That would be interesting for us all, Mr Cullen!" he chortles.

He tells me that although he's married, his wife isn't a member of the lifestyle anymore. She was but left when they had their first children and understands his need to dominate. He isn't allowed to play with the same submissive more than twice in case he forms an attachment and after the debacle with training Chastity, he helps with the occasional training session, but doesn't have submissives or training partners of his own anymore, because it just gets far too complicated. He explains that he is mainly used now to monitor dungeons and clubs as well as to help other dominants and dominatrix train their new submissives in control and rope play. He explains that he is usually called into help with unruly ones like Anna and me. He says that he would happily help with my training but that Carlisle is reluctant to let him, or anyone else, get involved in any way. He talks incessantly and I'm so tired that I'm relieved he doesn't need me to answer very often. He regales me with tales from the police force and I'm quite stunned to hear just how many officers, both male and female, are involved in our world as well as lawyers and judges.

He drops me off at my flat, and smiles as he takes my bags from the boot and clasps my right hand in both of his.

"Don't leave the lifestyle because of one small aberration, Edward," he says seriously. "We all get spooked at some point in the beginning. However exciting it is, it isn't all hearts and flowers and it can come as a shock when something doesn't match our expectations. Think carefully and when you've made your decision, get in touch with poor Carlisle and put him out of his misery. He's a good man and he cares about you deeply. Perhaps a little too deeply, granted, but he does care about you. And who knows, when you return, he might even indulge me by letting me participate in a scene or two with you. And with Anna as well, if my wife will allow it. I've played with her twice and would like to do so again. She's very pliant and responsive when she submits fully, but Joy might not be so keen if she knew how lovely Annabelle is!"

"I don't know how that works. One of you being in the lifestyle and the other one letting you do whatever you like." I say, scowling.

"It isn't quite as simple as that and I hope that when the children are older, Joy will feel able to re-join me. She's the most marvellous Dominatrix and you would love her, she's very firm but very nurturing. She would have been a great help to Katy in training you. Impact play isn't her thing, I'm sure you're glad to hear, her speciality is wax play and she's a genius at what she can do with a melted candle or ten! She did the odd scene after the twins were born and was in huge demand because she was lactating but she was too tired and couldn't keep up feeding the babies and every fucking submissive and dominant in west London!"

"She's a dominatrix?" I ask, surprised. "I thought she'd been your submissive?"

"No, it was the other way around, Edward, I was her submissive for a very long time before we became life partners and then she trained me, like Katy trained Carlisle. She was my superior in the police force too and was married to another dominant when we met. We had an affair and she introduced me to the lifestyle. I never looked back."

"Katy trained Carlisle?" I gasp, my eyes almost popping out of my head.

"And you want to be a lawyer? Start asking questions, show an interest and pay attention, Edward, and you will do very well. I didn't once say that my wife was my submissive, did I? Remember, to _'assume something makes an ass out of you and me_!" he laughs. "Katy, Joy and Caius all trained together under Master Callum of Camden Town and Carlisle was Katy's first submissive. I joined them and we all played together regularly. Happy days!"

"I didn't know…" I muse, pursing my lips as I watch a pleasure boat move along in the grey, cresting Thames.

"No, you didn't and couldn't know without asking questions but as I said, you shouldn't have jumped to conclusions without doing your research first either."

He's absolutely right. I need to start digging and researching before I come to a decision about anything.

"One other thing," he says, suddenly serious, interrupting my inner musings. "Next time you let their man servant give you a hand job, change your jeans afterwards. It was abundantly obvious to me what had just happened and I doubt it was much of a secret from Carlisle and Katy. I doubt, in the circumstances, they will punish you, but just remember one thing, Edward, Tom and his family work for the Hales. Have a care. They have far more to lose than you do. I'm guessing that your orgasms belong to them and that you aren't allowed to wank without them telling you to, let alone letting Tom touch you? Poor move, Edward, very poor. You've broken your contract and if you were mine, I would put you on a warning after I'd flogged you."

"Oh… and don't call him a man servant. That's quite offensive to me…" I say, quietly, ignoring what else he's said.

"Sorry. That was insensitive but I needed to make my point. And shave. Before you see Carlisle again, for fuck sake, shave. He could hardly keep his hands off you in the hall way. Fucking shave!" he says, waving, he leaves and I stand, holding my bags wondering what the fuck happened to me this weekend.

Bollocks.

How in the name of hell did he know what had happened between Tom and me? Stupidly, I thought I'd got away with that. But he's done me a favour and taught me a valuable lesson. And that is, I now realise that if I've learned anything this weekend, it is that I need to be vigilant and to start being more careful and observant.

When I walk passed the concierge, he calls to me and hands me all my post and a parcel. I'm guessing that these are the new books about British serial killers that I'd ordered from a specialist online company and laden down, I struggle into the lift and head up to the top floor. I've decided to do some research into the Fred and Rosemary West case and have bought a couple of dozen books to help me learn as much as I can about the story from many different views.

After packing some of the food I'd bought on Friday into cool bags, I have a shower, change into tracksuit bottoms and a slouchy hooded top and load up my car.

The drive back is agonisingly slow due to a throng of Sunday traffic and I'm grateful for the flask of coffee that I'd taken with me because the caffeine hit keeps me awake and I hum along to some shitty eighties music as I eat my way through an entire packet of chocolate bourbon biscuits and half a bag of Granny Smith's apples.

I manage to sneak back into my rooms, laden down with stuff without bumping into Clarissa, miraculously. After packing everything away, I cook myself beans on toast and have a shower and lay all my books out ready to work. My rooms are spotless and smell of polish thanks to my cleaning lady and pathetically, it gladdens my heart when I see my clothes hanging neatly, perfectly ironed, in my cupboard and opening a can of beer, I sit on my bed and start to work. My face itches a little bit because I still haven't shaved and my skin isn't used to the hair being allowed to grow but I ignore it and keep working.

Clarissa comes to see me shortly after seven o'clock. I know it's her when she knocks on the door so hard that it almost comes off its hinges and yells that she has supper for me but I don't respond so she goes away. I climb into bed, with my books, and don't get out again until the Monday lunchtime, other than to pee or to get some water.

After I shower and choose not to shave, I dress in black jeans, desert boots and a thick jumper before I swaddle myself in a puffa jacket, hat, scarf and gloves. I then sling my bag over my shoulder before I head towards the canteen. Staying inside my rooms, undisturbed, has meant that I've done a lot of work and I'm actually quite pleased with what I achieved but it also means that I didn't get much sleep and now I'm even more knackered than I was the day before. Added to this, sitting in one position for so long has meant that my arse hurts again and it suddenly occurs to me that I need to do more exercise. I decide to look into something new to add to my already busy schedule the next morning.

Clarissa's bellowing guides me to her like a fucking homing beacon. Taking my chicken curry and chocolate sponge pudding and custard to the table, I sigh as the entire room falls quiet and every pair of eyes turn around to look at me.

A couple of girls giggle and point at me, and huffing I walk towards Clarissa's table.

"_He's so pretty. Why do you think he likes fucking someone who looks like that?"_ a not so hushed whisper floats towards me from God only knows where but I ignore it and look resolutely in front of me.

"Neddy! Darling!" she says, "Oh my goodness! You look like shit! What happened to you this weekend? I saw your car outside last night but when I knocked, you didn't answer. Were you out socialising without me?" she asks, scowling. "You didn't go to another drinking competition without me, did you? Oh, don't you look handsome! Your beardie thing is almost gold! Darling! Very sexy!"

"No. I didn't go out last night, Clarissa. I must have been in the shower," I mumble around a mouthful of poppadum. "I had a long weekend with friends. That's all. And shut up about my beard."

"Did you hurt yourself?" Ali asks, frowning.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"When you were at the counter, you looked like you were limping. What happened?" she asks.

Bollocks.

"I fell off a horse. I stayed with friends in the country and we went riding." I lie. Sort of. I did get ridden… just not in the way that they mean.

"Neddy!" Clarissa yells at an even higher decibel than usual. "You need to come home with me for Christmas! I have lots of horses! I didn't know you rode! Alina is coming to Scotland with me for the holidays. Do say you'll come! Darling! Please! We'll be such a jolly party!"

"Thanks…" I mumble, "It's very kind of you to ask, but I have plans. And I can't change them I'm afraid."

I'm lying to her and I feel bad about doing that because I have no plans. I usually go to the Whitlocks but I haven't heard anything so far and anyway, it is only October, Clarissa is somewhat getting ahead of herself. The thought of spending Christmas with those two doesn't fill me with joy either.

"Gosh you're terribly quiet today, Ned," she grumbles. "Aren't you happy to be back with us?"

"Of course I am. I'm deliriously happy," I say, sarcastically, "But I'm tired and I've got a lot on my mind. You two keep talking and I'll listen."

Nodding, I continue eating and don't listen to a word they say for the rest of my meal. Grunting a cursory goodbye, I leave the room. Lugging my bag to my lecture, I feel bone weary as the Black Widow prattles on and on about the rights and wrongs of the police conduct in the Yorkshire Ripper case. Normally I would be hanging on her every word and although I go through the motions and make detailed notes, I don't take part in the debate at the end and instead sit with my head down, scribbling away and try to ignore the fact that she keeps staring at me.

"Mister Cullen," she drawls as we all file out. "Could I have a quick word please?"

Sigh.

"Yes, Miss Cavello, what can I do for you?" I say as I pack my lecture notes and folder away.

"You're very quiet this afternoon. Is something the matter?" she asks, scowling. "You usually have questions to ask and comments to make, but not today. Why is that? Did you have a particularly gruelling weekend? I notice that you look uncomfortable and kept fidgeting in your seat. Is something the wrong?"

Fucking observant women.

"No. Nothing's wrong," I lie, "I'm just trying to concentrate and make sure I don't miss any of the information you imparted to us all, Miss Cavello."

"You are such a good and diligent boy, Edward," she says as she trails a finger over the back of my hand. And scowling, I stare at her and pull it back. "I read your first essay on the principles of defence and prosecution last night and I have to say, it is the finest piece I've read in many years. Considering you have just begun, I think you're going to be a force to be reckoned with in the legal world. Have you any idea which branch of the law you would like to specialise in yet?"

Smiling at her, I cock my eyebrow and look her up and down. She looks beautiful, in a cold, hard, calculating way. She's wearing a skin tight black dress that stops just before her ankles. Its split from the neck to her lower cleavage allowing her large, firm breasts to spill out and then, it is unbuttoned all the way up to her mid thighs and a wide, black leather belt is tied tightly around her waist.

She has knee length black boots and black, lace patterned stockings on and as she moves, the tops of her stockings reveal a slither of naked skin. Concentrating deeply, I focus on keeping my cock as soft as possible, and of course, the second my eyes drop to her impressive cleavage, the traitorous bastard can imagine being wedged between her breasts and springs to life, banging itself against the cold teeth of the zip. Her olive skin shimmies in the fluorescent lighting and her jet black hair is plaited and twisted into an elaborate pattern on the top of her head. She has heavy eye make-up on and her pouty, large lips are painted blood red, as are her nails. She looks positively predatory. She doesn't scare me. She trails her fingers along my bare forearm, and smiles.

"You shave your arms, Mr Cullen?" she drawls, "That's somewhat unusual. Is there a reason that you shave your body hair off?"

Shit.

"I cycle." I lie. "I don't like the way the hair pulls when I'm wearing lycra. That's all."

"Really? How very fascinating. I like my boys to be hairless too… such soft skin…" she murmurs. "Now where were we? What do you want to specialise in?"

"Criminal law, Miss Cavello. I want to be a prosecuting lawyer." I say, firmly as I watch her eyes roam my jean clad crotch and she smirks at the effect she's having on me.

"Well that is my speciality as you know. I can imagine that you will do very well if your first endeavours are anything to go by. I love a good debate over an unwinnable case. If you ever need to talk things through, here is my private number." She says, grinning as she presses a small, elaborately written, gilt edged business card into my hand before she reaches up and strokes one finger nail through my scruff.

"Is this usual practice, Henrietta?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at her and she smiles that I've used her first name. "Giving your students your home phone number, private mobile number and address, I mean? Before you touch their face?"

"No, Mister Cullen," she says, grinning. "I save these details only for the crème de la crème of my students and you, my darling, beautiful boy, are most certainly that… and I love this…" she continues, stroking her palm over my cheek. "I bet that would scratch on sensitive skin…"

"Thank you for this," I say, waving the piece of card, pulling back from her, "and now I need to go," I say, smiling at her. "I have work to do, as you know. Oh, I did this over the weekend," I say, handing her the thin plastic folder that contains my essay, notes and ponderings on the Russian serial killer case. "After you mentioned it last week, I did a little research and was fascinated. Perhaps you could look at it for me and see if I'm doing the right kind of investigation? I want to be the best lawyer I can be. No. Strike that." I say, coldly as I stare at her. "I want to be the best fucking lawyer there has ever been and so yes, I would like your help, please, Henrietta." I finish as I turn around and leave the lecture hall.

Something has happened to me over the last three days and it's all suddenly fallen into place. Watching the Black Widow staring at me as if I'm something to eat made me realise that if I give people what they want, they can give me what I want first and foremost.

Sadly, it feels like something has died inside of me and even my heart seems to beat more slowly as I stride away from her penetrating gaze. Everything that I thought was good in people has been removed because they all destroyed my trust. Like a fool, I trusted Carlisle and Katy, and of course, Anna too. In their own ways, all three have let me down and now, perhaps, I should glean what I can from those around me and not trust anyone again. That way, I can't be disappointed. Carlisle handed Anna away as if she was nothing to him. Katy allowed it to happen and Anna told me that she loved me and that she encouraged that woman to hurt her so badly that she could have been hospitalised. At least Tom was honest in what he wanted and when I tried to say no, he took it any way. That's what I'm going to do from now on and if it means that I have to fuck Henrietta from time to time, then why not? If it means that I get what I want and what I need, why is that so wrong?

Thinking deeply about what this would mean in regard to my relationship with the Hale's, I wander out of the main entrance not looking where I'm going and almost get run over by Alina on her sodding bicycle.

"Sorry, Ned," she says, waving brightly.

"Don't fucking call me that, Ali!" I yell. "It's bad enough that Clarissa calls me that God awful name! I don't want you fucking calling me that too! It's Edward! Understand me?

E. D. W. A. R. D." I spell out, "EDWARD!"

Alina looks at me with wide eyes and as her bottom lip quivers, she cycles away, the ribbons on her handle bars flying out as she pedals frantically.

Shit.

"That wasn't nice, you know." Clarissa says, "She didn't mean it, Ned, she was just copying me. That's all. She likes me and she likes you. She wants to belong and you don't really make much of an effort with anyone but me, do you? I don't know why. You could have so many friends but people say you're distant. You aren't to me but then you love me. "She says flatly. "Apologise to her the next time you see her, she'll be okay."

"I will. I didn't mean to shout but I'm knackered, I need to go upstairs and work and then get some sleep. I've got two lectures tomorrow and a few hours in the library afterwards so I guess I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" I say, hoping that I can escape her and go home alone. I have got work to do but I also need to spend a bit of time thinking about what I do and don't want. I have pretty much decided that I will return to Katy and Carlisle but I'm going to make them wait for my decision and make a few changes to my limits and contract before I agree to let them near me again physically. From now on, I'm going to do what I want to do and will put my own needs before theirs.

"Are you sleeping with her, Neddy?" Clarissa asks, making me turn to look at her and scowl as we walk back across the quadrangle towards our rooms, tugging our scarves up against the biting wind as we move more quickly now.

"Don't be so fucking ridiculous!" I yell at her. "She's my fucking lecturer! I was giving her my essay! The work that I did over the weekend when I was in London? Yes? You know? College work, Clarissa? For Christ's sake! What the hell has got into you?"

"Everyone says that she has her eye on you and that you will be the next student keeping her bed warm, that's all. Just be careful, Ned. You're special and I love you to bits, I don't want her damaging you like she does the other's she fucks. They say that she's aggressive, you know? She likes hurting people in the bedroom, allegedly. I don't know what that means but everyone says she is violent in the boudoir, darling. Tying people up and hitting them with things. I don't know what they mean, but someone said that she's a domestos? Or did they say a domestistic? Oh I don't know, but I thought that one of those was a type of bleach but what do I know? I've never used bleach to clean anything in my life and I'm pretty innocent when it comes to sex as you know. You wouldn't want anything like that, would you?"

She's violent? In the bedroom? Fuck… Carlisle did seem to know her or at least he knew of her when I mentioned her name. Is she another dominatrix? Fucking hell… is there anyone who isn't involved in this world? John was right… I really do need to start paying attention to what's going on around me. At this rate, I'm going to be a fucking awful lawyer. I don't seem to be able to see what's going on in front of my face.

Shit… what next?

…

**You might not like my boy for a while. He has to be taken apart so that Bella helps to put him back together again and for the foreseeable future, he will become a selfish, cold, pretty arrogant, cock sure little sod. This will both help to make him a cool, calculating lawyer and a dispassionate, emotionless dominant. Please be nice to him and be patient with him. He will get there, it will just take another five or six chapters to get there!**

**I hope you like what I'm doing with this story and that it helps you understand Edward as he is in ISS. **

**More soon.**

**Hugs from my lovely city and from me to you. Mwah x**

**Oh, and just to let you know, Tom is based on the very beautiful James McAvoy…**


	14. Chapter 14

**WE HAVE A TUMBLR! IT'S SLOW GOING, I HAVE TO FIND SOME TIME TO POST EXCERPTS AND PICTURES, BUT I WILL GET THERE EVENUALLY. ITS "THE WORLD OF KITTIES1FFN AND COME AND FOLLOW ME!**

…**..….**

**ERIKA, MY BEAUTIFUL, DARLING GIRL. THIS IS DEDICATED TO YOU. FORGIVE ME, BUT AS YOU KNOW, I DON'T SPEAK FRENCH AND I HOPE I HAVENT SCREWED THIS UP TOO BADLY! MWAH XXX**

…

**LANDERSS – THANK YOU FOR TAKING THE TIME TO REVIEW. THE FACT THAT YOU'VE NEVER REVIEWED ANYTHING BEFORE TOUCHED ME GREATLY. THANK YOU SO MUCH. HUGS X**

…**.**

**Remember, we have a group on Facebook called "Harpies Haven," so if you want to continue reading it, do please come and play. You will be able to see the faces I see when I write as well as some of their equipment and scenes, etc. It's naughty, but friendly and welcoming so come and play.**

…

**I'm in hiding. I'm waving from beneath several clumps of pond weed in the local park, quaking in fear and waiting for you all bollocking me out after you read this chapter! This drinking straw is a bugger to try and breathe through but I'm not surfacing until a week on Sunday! I know, I know, you all hate Caius, rightly, but please remember, this is just a story!**

**Okay, a few other things. Hanging my head in shame, I've used the unspeakable word in this chapter. Forgive me! I don't study the law, I research as much as I can about the legal department at Cambridge University, but I have limited time to do so as I work at least eighty hours per week. So if I get the odd thing wrong, as Clarissa would say, please bear with!**

**Thank you to Rima2000 and Laura Mars for your unending patience and love when dealing with both my boy and my girlie, the way you indulge my ramblings takes my breath away. Thank you also to my darling Katy for pre-reading this and getting utterly freaked out at the way I've based Queen Domme on her and her long legs! Mwah sweets!**

**I don't own Twilight, the Mormonlicious Stephanie Meyer does, I do however own the plot and storylines and all the individual characters and to those who say I don't own this story, oh yes I sodding well do! This was original fiction, as was ISS that was merely adapted for fanfiction.**

**This story is rated NC17/MA for strong, adult content, and if you are offended by BDSM, slash, both male and female, mild sexual violence and manipulation, both mental and physical, walk away. Please. Nasty reviews offend me and the response you get to one will offend you, especially when I tell you to fuck right off, so don't bother. Some of the scenes I write about might just turn you on to such a degree that you spontaneously combust, Tena Ladies all the way girls! Mwah x**

**Before ANYONE yells at me for the comments about the kilt, I WAS BROUGHT UP IN SCOTLAND, RIGHT UP IN THE HIGHLANDS, NEAR INVERNESS. IT'S A JOKE. KEEP CALM. ****Lang may your lum reek, here's tae us, wha's like us, gey few an' they're aw deid.**** Enjoy!**

**So, onwards and upwards. In the last chapter, Edward started the day as a boy and ended it very much a man. This chapter carries on in the same vein and shows the way that Edward is changing in his wants, needs and views and that the still gentle, kind boy, is making way for the colder, more callous man he becomes. Please understand that this is a journey for him and it's only when he meets Bella that he finally realises what he wants and needs.**

…**.…..**

**YOU GIVE LOVE A BAD NAME**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

_**Shot through the heart**____**  
And you're to blame**____**  
Darlin'**____**  
You give love a bad name**____****_

An angel's smile is what you sell___**  
You promise me heaven, then put me through Hell**____**  
Chains of love got a hold on me**____**  
When passions a prison, you can't break free**____****_

Oh, you're a loaded gun, yeah___**  
Oh, there's nowhere to run**____**  
No one can save me**____**  
The damage is done**____****_

Shot through the heart___**  
And you're to blame**____**  
You give love a bad name (bad name)**____**  
I play my part and you play your game**____**  
You give love a bad name (bad name)**____**  
You give love, a bad name**____****_

Paint your smile on your lips___**  
Blood red nails on your fingertips**____**  
A school boy's dream, you act so shy**____**  
Your very first kiss was your first kiss goodbye**____****_

Oh, you're a loaded gun___**  
Oh, there's nowhere to run**____**  
No one can save me**____**  
The damage is done**____****_

Shot through the heart___**  
And you're to blame**____**  
You give love a bad name (bad name)**____**  
I play my part and you play your game**____**  
You give love a bad name (bad name)**____**  
You give love, oh!**____****_

Oh!___**  
Shot through the heart**____**  
And you're to blame**____**  
You give love a bad name**____**  
I play my part and you play your game**____**  
You give love a bad name (bad name)**____****_

Shot through the heart___**  
And you're to blame**____**  
You give love a bad name (bad name)**____**  
I play my part and you play your game**____**  
You give love a bad name (bad name)**____**  
You give love**____**  
You give love (bad name)**____**  
You give love**____**  
You give love (bad name)**____**  
You give love**____**  
You give love (bad name)**____**  
You give love**_

…

**Previously:**

"**Are you sleeping with her, Neddy?" Clarissa asks, making me turn to look at her and scowl. We walk back across the quadrangle towards our rooms, tugging our scarves up against the biting wind as we move more quickly now.**

"**Don't be so fucking ridiculous!" I yell at her. "She's my fucking lecturer! I was giving her my essay! The work that I did over the weekend? Yes? For Christ's sake, what the hell has got into you?"**

"**Everyone says that she has her eye on you and that you will be the next student keeping her bed warm, that's all. Just be careful, Ned. You're special and I love you to bits, I don't want her damaging you like she damaged other's she fucked. They say that she's aggressive, you know? She likes hurting people allegedly. I don't know what that means but everyone says she is violent in the boudoir, darling. Tying people up and hitting them with things. I don't know what they mean, but someone said that she's a domestos? Or did they say a domestistic? Oh I don't know, but I thought that one of those was a type of bleach but what do I know? I've never used bleach to clean anything in my life and I'm pretty innocent when it comes to sex as you know. You wouldn't want anything like that, would you?"**

**She's violent? In the bedroom? Fuck… Carlisle did seem to know her, or at least he knew of her, when I mentioned her name. Is she another dominatrix? Fucking hell… is there anyone who isn't involved in this world? John was right… I really do need to start paying attention to what's going on around me. At this rate, I'm going to be a fucking awful lawyer. I don't seem to be able to see what's going on in front of my face.**

**Shit… what next?**

…**..…**

One day, in early December, I returned to my rooms just before noon, bundled up like **'**Nanook of the North**'**. I had been walking briskly in a feeble bid to warm myself up a little bit, after hearing a lecture from a visiting professor in the Churchill College lecture hall. As I raised my keys to the lock, there, stuck to my front door, was a bright yellow post-it note. Pulling my thick woollen gloves off my frigid, numb, light blue tinged fingers, I peeled it off the wood and after reading it, I groaned.

"_Christmas nibbles at one o'clock, sharp, ducky! Don't make me wait for you, darling one! Christmas is coming, Clarissa is getting fat! Jingle Bells, Neddy smells—nice! I know it doesn't rhyme but oh well, I tried! I'm going to be an economist, not the next poet laureate so it's irrelevant. Anyway, I'm rambling, please come and help me to get into the festive mood, I've had a long morning, Neddy, and want to see you. Cx"_

Shit.

However fond of her I am, her lame attempts at humour are risible at times. Frankly, if she gets any more bloody festive, she's going to explode or I'll stab her with a sprig of her own plastic sodding holly! I was in London for just over twenty four hours. Anyone would think that she hadn't seen me for a sodding year!

Looking at her note again, I huff because, dammit, I don't want to bloody go and waste any of my very limited spare time on this crap. I'd planned on heading off to the Squire Library, to do a bit of research this afternoon, because I've got five essays partially written and wanted to finish at least one today. The last thing I need is to sit and listen to Clarissa and Ali wittering on about Christmas and the upcoming University Ball. Each faculty has a 'festive ball' and I've already decided not to attend mine. She had wanted me to travel to Scotland with her for a break but, because I have a weekend planned with the Hale's and they're having a party in Runnymede, I turned her down, flat. I like the idea of meeting up with Tom again so a weekend in a draughty pile,in the wilds of Scotland, couldn't possibly compete. I had planned on sneaking back to London this Saturday**,** without telling Carlisle, so that I could spend an evening with Jasper, Rose and Emmett. Clarissa however, tried to nag me into submission, pun intended, but that didn't work. So, she sobbed and snivelled on my shoulder, until I gave in and said I would go with her to the Economics Department's Ball instead. 

I dread to think what the fuck that's going to involve. Clarissa might be nice but the rest of her cohorts are a seriously dry, slightly dull bunch. Well, no, if I'm being honest, that's not right. The truth of the matter is, they're so boring that I almost fall asleep on the rare occasions that we all go to the pub together. Their idea of a 'great fun filled evening' is playing Jenga or charades whilst consuming warm cider or trying to think up tongue twisters whilst standing on their heads, eating cheese on toast. But, because it falls on the same night as the Law Faculty's party, it's a good excuse to enable me to wriggle out of accompanying the Black Widow or a couple of the girls in my year who are becoming a bit tiresome. I've never been fazed by pushy women—or men come to that—I'm pretty good at taking what I want, when I want and with whom I want—but these two take the bloody biscuit. They've started following me around and laughing much too loudly, in a bid to catch my attention, whenever they see me.

It didn't bother me too much at first but after they hijacked me in the local super market and pinned me against the freezer section, I felt a bit panicky. Especially when one of them pressed against my non-existent erection and told me how turned on she was, whilst the other one fondled my jean clad arse. For the first time ever, I felt physically uncomfortable with girls groping me and when I was offered the chance to fuck them both at once, I got a little bit twitchy and backed away. I've fucked two girls at once before, and two men, obviously. I love having one girl sitting on my face whilst the other fucks herself on my erection, but there was something cloying and needy about these two that made me nervous, and I started to keep out of their way as much as possible.

I have no choice but to spend time in their company during lectures but after they tried to grope me in the library a couple of days after the supermarket incident, I ensure that I sit near the exit rather than be left in a secluded area with them. I'm not scared of them but I don't want any of this shit hanging around me when I'm studying. I could easily fuck them both and make them scream so loudly that they lose their voices, but I want to keep that part of my life well away from Cambridge. Clarissa says I should let them cop a feel of my huge cock, because then they would run screaming in fright, but there's no way I'm letting them do that. So now, I just ignore them more than ever and since they started sending me highly graphic notes, I doubt that just feeling my cock would put them off.

Bless Clarissa. She tried to help me in dissuading them by bandying about the fact that I am a 'librocubilarist' and that it's a real skill and that because of this talent, I wouldn't be interested in spending any kind of intimate time with them. But that didn't wash with them because they both knew that it meant nothing more impressive than the fact that I like to read in bed. They did ask HOW she knew this and giggling, she had batted her eyelashes at them and said that 'a lady never kisses and tells'. They find it hard to believe that I'm shagging Clarissa, which, of course I'm not. But they don't know that. So, they're often quite spiteful to her when I'm not around. She didn't tell me, Alina did and he pretends that it doesn't upset her, but I know it does. She's a sensitive soul, deep down inside. Nothing either of us said or did, dissuaded them, and I was rapidly running out of ideas about how to shake them off.

It got so bad in the pub the other night that Clarissa got pissed off when the ash blonde one, Virginie, sat on my knee before she spun around, straddled me and tried to kiss me as she ground against my cock. Standing up, I shoved her off and she landed on her bony arse on the wooden floor. I told her to fucking behave herself, when she made a drunken grab for my crotch, as she tried to unbutton my jeans. In all honesty, if we'd been alone and weren't college classmates, I would have fucked her. Clarissa was so outraged at her 'forwardness' that she said she needed to defend my honour. It was very funny when she stood up and hit them both with her home-made patchwork rucksack. Sadly, she forgot that she had a gin bottle containing her early morning urine sample in her bag. She meant to take it to the doctor, but hadn't remembered to do so. She has cystitis—allegedly—after Torquil fucked her too hard at the weekend and she thought that perhaps a grass seed had been down his foreskin. I was stunned to silence because, frankly, both those facts are far too much fucking information for a male friend EVER to know. So, when she whacked one of them, Lorraine, over the head, the bottle shattered and saturated her jet black hair with dark orange pee. I have great hopes that they will leave me alone from now on, if their horrified expressions were anything to go by. They both ran out of the pub, screaming the place down**, **as everyone fell about laughing.

Anyway, back to the sodding ball. It's a black tie affair, so I brought my brand new Dior tuxedo with me from London, two weeks ago, and it's now hanging up in my wardrobe in readiness. Annabelle took me shopping, of course, and I whilst we were in Saville Row, I opened an account with one of the best tailor's available. I know I'm going to need a cupboard full of impressive suits for when I get presented to the bar, so I ordered two to begin with. I also ordered a couple of pairs of hand-made shoes and bought a dozen shirts, a selection of ties and even some cufflinks as we strolled up and down the famous street.

Wandering into the living room area of my room, I crank the heating up and pull my padded jacket off. It's bitterly cold outside but reasonably cosy in my flat, but I'm tired, so the cold is affecting me more than it usually would. I don't want to go to this fucking party, but it appears that I am accompanying both Clarissa and Alina now. Or so Clarissa informed me last night, as we sat in the pub, eating fish and chips. Watching her devour that poor piece of cod, dunked in tartar sauce, put me off Fruit de Mer for life. It looked like a moving washing machine as she swirled the partially masticated food around her open mouth with her tongue and when I pushed my full plate away, unable to continue eating, she fell on it like she hadn't had a square meal for a month. I know she comes from the landed gentry, and that she went to some very good public schools, but boy, she has absolutely no decorum or etiquette graces in either private or public.

As she ate, she insisted on telling me that they will both look stunning in their chosen outfits because they are busy every evening getting ready. I know that they've been sewing up a storm and I saw them coming in with rustling bags full of fabric last week. I can hear the thump and whirr of her sewing machine every night when I come back in from running and the bloke from downstairs keeps complaining about the noise they are making. I dread to fucking think what monstrosity she has planned for the night. She said that she's also designed something "super" for Alina. Poor kid.

She didn't want me to wear a tux because she said everyone would be wearing one. She wanted me to stand out, and instead, tried to convince me for weeks to wear Torquil's Royal Stewart tartan kilt. I refused point plank to wear a skirt in fucking public and said that his kilt wouldn't bloody well fit me anyway. He looks dire in it, and it might have something to do with the fact that he's short and fat and looks more like a tartan patterned tin of shortbread than a man, when he wears it. She was offended when I said that, but by that point in the conversation, I was beyond giving a shit whether she was upset or not.

"Why in the name of fuck would I want to stand out even more than I already do? Because of my hair and face, everyone always points at me as it is. I don't want to be singled out, Clarissa! Why the hell would you think I would want that?" I asked her, scowling.

"You're beautiful, Neddy," she said smiling, "Please. I want us both to look stunning; you don't have to try very hard. You could turn up wearing a sock on your dicky doo dah and everyone would think you were the best dressed man in the room! You always do anyway but I think we should stand out even more. Please wear a kilt, darling boy?"

When she offered to lend me her father's sgian dubh, I shook my head in disgust. Then as she wittered on, explaining all the different accessories that I would need to wear to ensure that I looked like a proper Scot's man, I told her in no uncertain terms what she could do with the stupid bloody dagger she was wafting around and headed back to my own rooms and went to bed.

Why on earth she thought I would want to walk the hallowed corridors of Cambridge with a decorative knife wedged into a sock is beyond me. I did, however, change my mind when she found out that I actually had a tartan of my own. And when I said that I quite liked the idea after all, she rented a kilt, jacket, socks and dress shoes especially for me. I quite like the idea of being the centre of attention now. I finally got over that aversion and now, when people comment on my face, I smile at them and don't complain anymore. My suit will stay where it is until I take it back to London this weekend. On second thought, I really don't want to take it on the train again, so I might just leave it in the cupboard until I drive back there before Christmas.

I don't know who was more excited, her or Ali, when she went home for the weekend and found the Cullen tartan in a tatty little shop in the backstreets of Edinburgh. She said that our original family crest was aPelican piercing its breast with its bill, before feeding it's young with its own blood, and that our family motto is "Niet for Ure Selfe" in Old Saxon. She assures me that this means "Not for ourselves." I didn't like that. I didn't like that at all, and I scowled at her words, because from now on, that most definitely isn't going to be my motto!

It wasn't until a week later that I realised I'd been conned and that the "Cullen" tartan was actually a "Killen" fabric. She just shrugged and said, "Oh well, Ned, it was close enough and you know you'll look gorgeous in it."

I didn't really mind, it's a great fabric. It feels soft, yet heavy, a wool fabric that is woven in different shades of green, with a vibrant blue and an orangey red strike through it. As I walk, the narrow pleats at the back swing and sway and I really quite like the way it feels. Clarissa says the colour brings out the green in my eyes, not to mention the ginger in my hair.

Sigh.

Yawning, I stretch and rub my eyes,before I raise my arms above my head, trying to release the stiffness from sitting in one position for such a long time. Grabbing a bottle of water, I stand and look out the window and try to focus, because I've done quite enough day dreaming for now. The sky seems to be devoid of colour and as a consequence, it leeches everything, natural and man-made, of any warmth and tone. The chilly bleakness matches my mood. I bend down andtry to turn up the radiator, as a shiver ripples up my spine.

My large, comfortable bed catches my eye and I sigh, because quite frankly, it's calling to me. I didn't get much sleep last night, but for the last four weeks, that isn't a new experience for me, and I'm beyond tired.

At least my bed is freshly made with clean sheets. After the beating they took last night, they needed washing and if my cleaning lady hadn't been coming today, I would have washed them myself, by hand in the bathroom sink, if need be. Chuckling to myself, I plonk down on the edge of the bed and untie the ragged piece of stocking that's hanging limply from one of the posts. I wonder what Mrs Possett, my cleaner, made of that!

Looking at the pile of folders and books sitting on my bedside table, I soon stop laughing. I need to knuckle down to do some work and haven't even thought about Christmas presents yet. The last thing I want to do, is spend the afternoon eating some of Clarissa's horrible food. But at least I won't have to cook or clean up after myself afterwards which means that I can catch up on some work this evening. But first, I need to give Christmas some serious thought. My gift and card list has grown considerably in the last twelve months and I now have to think of gifts for Carlisle, Katy, Anna, John and his family, Ali and of course the ever chatty Clarissa! I can't be arsed to go present shopping, so I have decided to just order the entire lot, gift wrapped, from Harrod's later today and have them all delivered a few days before the twenty fifth.

Smiling at the thought that thankfully I won't actually have to fight my way through loud, overcrowded, and hot shops, I start unpacking my notes. When I'm finished, I plonk down at my desk, read over my scribbles in the margins and guzzle the rest of a large bottle of water and munch on a packet of crisps. I need something to line my stomach before it's assaulted by Clarissa's food, from her less than sanitary kitchen.

The flashing light from my phone catches my attention, and pressing the button, I sit down to listen. There are half a dozen messages on the answer machine and I know that a few are bound to be from Anna. She'll be checking to make sure that I'm going to travel home next Friday, as early as I can, so that I can be ready in time. We have another party to attend on the Saturday evening, and this time, I'm to be exhibited. I won't be playing other than to demonstrate with Carlisle and Annabelle in a display of double penetration. She wants me to travel home before lunch time because she is going to wax my balls, pubes and crack for me. And then she'll wax my chest and armpits and use hair removal cream on my arms and legs, ensuring that I'm as perfectly groomed as our Master and Mistress demand.

Sighing, I begin to type up my notes, tired but thrilled with the lecture I've just attended. It was led by an expert in criminal law and I hung on his every word. Afterwards, I pushed my way through the crowds and introduced myself like some sort of love-struck groupie. I held onto his offered hand for much longer than is normal and grinned when his pupils dilated at my firm touch. He seemed thrilled when I told him that I was delighted to meet him and that I had read every book he'd published. He seemed to know all about me from the Black Widow and we chatted for half an hour after she'd joined us for a cup of tea. I now have his private card in my small silver card holder and he offered to show me around his chambers in Jockey's Fields when I'm next in town. I'm so busy with the Hale's that it won't be until my break from university at Christmas.

Grinning to myself, I make quick work of typing up my notes and when I'm done, I kick my shoes off and lie down on my pristine bed, lifting my arms up and resting the back of my head in my hands. Sighing, I close my eyes for ten minutes before I have to face the audible onslaught of Clarissa. Please God don't let there be a dress rehearsal for the ball. Please... she keeps threatening to show me their dresses, but I have constantly declined, saying it will make the anticipation of the night all the merrier. I'm becoming a lying fucker and know that I'm turning into my father. I used to hate that idea but now I don't really care, in fact, I quite like the fact that this new air of superiority I have seems to get me all my own way. So, why should I give a fuck?

I look at my bedside table and smile at my card holder. It was a gift from the Hale's last weekend and is engraved with my initials. Thanks to Henrietta, I'm gathering quite a collection of salubrious contacts, and however mentally and physically demanding she's becoming, she has certainly been worth her weight in gold.

However, she certainly surpassed herself today.

Perigrine Johannsen is one of the most eminent members of the Queen's Council in the United Kingdom, and I'm beyond thrilled that he wants to meet up with me for afternoon tea. He is a prosecutor and the mere mention of his name instils fear in all around him. I want that. I want the level of power and control that he commands. I want everyone to look to me to defend them and for those with something to fear, to quake when my name is mentioned.

That's not a terribly submissive way to behave, I know, and Carlisle has called me an 'aggressive submissive' more than once of late, but that's how I feel and that's what I want and will have.

As we left the lecture hall, Henrietta explained that I should be careful as Perigrine is a notoriously predatory gay man, who is likely to make a pass at me, and in response to her caution, I just shrugged. Who cares? He has a brilliant mind and I want to have the opportunity to pick it and glean everything I can from him, and if that means I have to let him flirt a little, why not? It isn't like I'm going to let him fuck me, although, in all honesty, it wouldn't be a novelty if he did. I tell her I don't fancy him so it won't be happening. She constantly tells me that she likes the idea that I'm not fazed by anything sexual and says she would love to watch me being fucked by another man.

I smiled at her and said nothing. She doesn't know about my other life and I don't feel the need to tell her about it, but she's getting quite possessive. I know that the students and lecturers alike are discussing us, but I no longer give a fuck. I don't need most of these people to like me or to even remember me.

I've already decided that when I take my first Tripos examination at the end of the academic year, I'm going to apply to do a year at Poitiers in France, at the end of my second year. I'm pretty sure that Perigrine can advise me on what to study to help me reach that goal. In addition to all the extra tutoring and encouragement that Henrietta is lavishing on me, not to mention the fact that I really do seem to have a natural aptitude for the law, I'm miles ahead of most of the other students already and intend to keep it that way. A couple of my other lecturers have invited me to drinks parties at their homes**,** along with one or two of my fellow students. It seems that there is a core of perhaps five of us**,** that have a real gift for criminology, and we are being singled out already.

I haven't mentioned my plan for my immediate future to Carlisle and Katy, or even to Annabelle, Jasper or Emmett, but I have mentioned it to Henrietta. She thinks it's a great idea and has taken to guiding my every legal movement. She says that she intends me to be her star student and so she is going all out to ensure that I reach my goals.

I trust her judgement with my education, and I run most things by her now. And oddly, she's become my main confidant, college wise, but she doesn't know anything about my private life whatsoever. She asks a few questions but I just change the subject or tap the side of my nose and tell her that I love what we have and not to spoil it. That usually keeps her happy for a little while.

I have everything tied down and compartmentalised in their own little emotional boxes, and I like it that way. I know that Carlisle would like me to confide in him, but I doubt that level of trust will ever come back. I still feel detached from him so for the foreseeable future, anything I need to discuss regarding my career, I will run by the more than willing ear of the voluptuous Miss Cavello.

French was one of my best subjects at Eton, and I shone in it. Well, that, as well as English, maths, chemistry, physics, biology, history, geography, music, debating, sports of all kinds, especially rugby and rowing, anything to do with computers and political studies, and I have been practicing it regularly, speaking to Henrietta in her native tongue rather than in English.

She's half Algerian and half English. Her mother doesn't speak a word of English, so her home language has always been French. Therefore, she's more than happy to converse with me in her mother tongue. Actually, she loves it when I talk to her in French and it seems to turn her on even more than when I speak to her in English. She adores it when we shut ourselves within our own little linguistic bubble, especially in the lecture hall or library, and this seems to have made her even keener on me. More often than not, I don't get out of her study in one piece, especially when I talk dirty to her as I conjugate my verbs. In all honesty, she usually has my jeans around my ankles before she's even kicked her front door closed, so other than yelling what we want to do to one another, we don't speak much at and she can't seem to get enough of my body.

She was a bit surprised the first that she ripped my boxer shorts off that I 'manscape,' as she calls it, because she usually has to insist that her boys shave their pubes. She's delighted that I look after myself and that I will basically do anything she wants me to do, to her, physically. She has no physical limits, pretty much the same as me and as such, we are perfectly balanced in bed. She loves to suck my cock whilst I shove four fingers in her backside and I bought her an anal hook to keep her in place as she blows me which blew her mind.

I've learned one thing over the last few weeks, and that's that she loves it when I dominate her, because she's usually the one who is experienced, knowledgeable and in charge in the bedroom. She isn't a dominatrix, Clarissa was totally wrong about that, she just loves rough, aggressive sex and I certainly give her that. And believe you me, she gives it right back to me as she slams me against the wall and either sucks my cock or fucks me where I stand—we're almost the same height when she wears stilettos—or she flings me onto her velvet chaise and rides me hard and fast. I have more bruises from my times with her than I ever have with Carlisle and Katy and in many ways; she makes Jacinta seem quiet, shy and retiring. I had no idea that I liked to be this aggressive between the sheets but fuck… sex with her takes my breath away. She loves it when I gag her with her own, wet knickers and tie her face down on the bed and fuck her really hard from behind. I grab her hair and yank her head backwards before I slap her rounded backside and leave a dark red hand print on it. The rougher I am, the more she fights and screeches like a banshee in enjoyment. She jerks and writhes and shoves me, screaming for me to _"Arrêter! Arrêter! Dur! Dur! Arrêter ça!"_

The first time she did that, I stopped immediately, thinking I was hurting her.

Au contraire.

She was actually yelling for me to stop what I was doing because she wanted more! However hard I fucked her or pulled her around, it wasn't enough, so shrugging, I did as she asked and I gave her more. In fact, I gave her so much more, she could hardly walk afterwards and I did feel guilty the next morning when she walked with a limp. My cock really isn't suitable to fuck someone brutally, especially not anally. She didn't complain, in fact, her one little grumble was that she wished I'd used a vibrator on her at the same time. I did just that the next time.

I am learning more about her every day and can read her pretty well now. In fact, all I have to do is to say is _"Je veux vous étaler par terre et vous mange hors comme si vous êtes une pêche mûre, commençant à vos orteils et finissant avec vos lèvres—les deux séries—avant que je vous baise dur et rapide avec mes doigts, ma langue et mon coq dans chaque orifice et fait vous planer sur le bord jusqu'à ce que je vous permettez de viens. Et si vous venez avant que je vous dis à, je vous fesserai et vous lie au lit si solidement que vous ne pouvez pas vous déplacer et pouvez vous partir insatisfait comme je viens partout dans votre visage," _and she goes absolutely nuts and convulses beneath me.

Her oral response is usually far less verbose and I get a cursory, "Fuck me now and make it hard, Cullen!" or "_Manger mon cunt, maintenant!"_ or _"Me donner votre coq!" _or _"__Asseyez-vous! Laissez-moi monter votre coq!" _or "_Baise-moi! Baiser ma chatte! Baise ma bouche! Baise mon cul! Juste foutue baise-moi!"_

In the past, I'd tied Jace up a few times and tortured her with my fingers and tongue and even with a vibrator now and then, but Henrietta is a different story altogether. She is mature and massively experienced and has even taught me a thing or two between the sheets. She has a box filled with toys that would give a dungeon a run for its money and loves to sit on my face whilst she wanks me off, with a vibrator wedged in my arse.

Fucking her is unlike anything else I've ever experienced. Whether she uses her hand, mouth, or her pussy, it feels like she is consuming me. She takes what she wants, without asking and I fucking love every minute of my time with her. The second time she took me to her bed, I rolled her stockings down and as she lay sprawled out, naked before my hungry eyes, I tore each one into two pieces. She went nuts and started yelling at me in French that I owed her a pair of silk, seamed stockings that had cost her seventy five pounds. She soon stopped yelling, however, when I used the four pieces to bind her securely in a saltire position to her wooden bed frame, sat on her breasts and fucked her mouth. She couldn't shout when her mouth was full, could she? I then made her cum with my fingers before I fucked her and made us both cum together. Yep. I think I can safely say, those were some of my finest sexual hours and she has been like my sexually insatiable lap dog ever since.

Just as I wanted her to be…

The irony of enjoying her being like this isn't lost on me, especially as I'm meant to be training as a submissive, but I love to watch her crawl across the room towards me as she pants in excitement. And from then on, she wanted to fuck me every day. I have had to limit it to two or three times a week because she knackers me out more than Jace and Riley ever did, and I mean both of them together!

She is totally insatiable and is almost as strong as I am. We hurl one another around and smash loads of things as we bang and crash around her flat. And don't start me off about what happened when I fucked her against the shelves in the library, after hours. The harder I thrust, the more books we dislodged and when she came, she shook so violently that I genuinely thought that one, or both of us, would be injured as the leather bound tomes came tumbling down on top of us.

She's an animal in between the sheets and I can't get enough. She bites, scratches and pinches me so much that I'm permanently bruised, and she is so loud that at times, I fear she will perforate my ears when she screams through her orgasms. She knows exactly what she wants and needs and how to get it. The only other person I've ever been quite so unhinged with is Riley. I guess teachers are my weakness. She touches me the entire time, whether it's just to stroke my hair away from my eyes or to give me a hand job and constantly tells me that she can't get enough of me. She always tells me that she expects me to be completely monogamous with her and I just laugh. She has no idea of my life in London and I have no intention of telling her anything about it either.

I quite like the attention that seems to be coming my way not only from her, but from three quarters of both the female and male, student and staff population. And I have to be honest, knowing that all I have to do is smile in a certain way, or give someone a little attention to get anything I want, is starting to grow on me. If that makes me sound arrogant, I really don't give a fuck any more. However much I was in demand at Eton that was nothing compared to the mainly female attention I get at Cambridge.

Douglas keeps asking to come and visit, despite the fact that he is now sharing a flat with his boyfriend, but I decline repeatedly. Riley and Jacinta also keep inviting me over to Ireland but I can't, and won't, fuck around with them anymore. Mistral is far too important to me now and it would feel odd, to say the very least, if I indulged with his parents again. But Tom is a different kettle of fish altogether… I quite like the idea of corrupting the willingly susceptible young Mister Chancer.

Smiling to myself just as the inky darkness of sleep threatens to wash over me, I force myself to stand up and make a cup of strong coffee. I smooth my bed linen, and change into a rugby jersey, before I sit down and look over my notes again. Henrietta has introduced me to the joys of espresso coffeeand how it can keep me awake, even after I've been fucking her for six hours without a break, so I bought myself a pot that goes on top of the stove. I have taken to drinking it all the time, now.

Watching as big, fat, fluffy snowflakes float passed my windows; I lean my face against the cold glass and grin at nothing in particular. To put it very simply, the previous six weeks have been interesting, and in many ways, some of the most rewarding and educational of my life.

My studies are going better than I ever dreamed they would. I love every new lecture more than the last one. I wake up each morning with a spring in my step, knowing that by the end of the day, I will have learned something else that will set me on the path to my destiny and vocation. However cheesy that might sound, it's true, and I love my chosen field of study. When we sit and debate the rights and wrongs of certain cases at the end of some lectures, I can fight my corner better than anyone else and it isn't only Henrietta who looks at me appreciatively now. Lecturers and students alike gravitate towards me, to ask my opinion on things, and I like it.

On top of all that, I joined the rowing team and now get up at 5:00 am to spend time on the river and in the gym, even if I've just rolled out of Henrietta's bed or she's still asleep in mine. I love it and relish the blood, sweat and tears that the coach's demand of me and sometimes, it feels like I'm back at Eton, only without Riley. I miss Riley, though of course, I would never tell him that.

I'm absolutely in control of my private life, for the first time ever, and I'm thoroughly enjoying it. Although I had my freedom growing up, I didn't have the financial carte blanche that would allow me to do whatever I wanted to. I do now. I love the time I spend with my rowing friends. We go to pubs and clubs and generally have a great time together and they like my dedication to the training routine. I've thrown myself into getting as strong and fit as possible and it's become another battle to see who can be the very best. My goal is to take part in the university boat race at the end of my second year, before I leave for France. Competitors usually take part in the understudies race in the 'Goldie' boat before they get moved up to the first team. I hope to continue competing and take part in the main race when I return to England after studying abroad. That race will take place at the end of my fourth year.

And then there's my submissive life.

Surprisingly, that's going better than I expected it to, especially after the disastrous play party. I have far more freedom now that I've sorted out my participation in the world of BDSM, making it into just one compartmentalised section of my routine. I feel genuinely settled and content because now it's a part of my life, not my whole life, I can do other things and develop other hobbies.

Having phoned Carlisle on the Thursday morning after our first weekend in Runnymede, as I'd promised him I would, I informed him that I wouldn't be returning to London that weekend. Or the one after that either. He wasn't happy when I said that I needed time in Cambridge to socialise with some of my fellow students as well as time to think about what I wanted from my relationship with him and Katy. And although he sounded disappointed, he accepted the fact that I needed some space away from them all.

He asked if I was still upset about what had happened to Annabelle and I told him I was. I explained that I didn't blame him or Katy for her enjoying being hurt, not completely, but that I did blame them for not monitoring her time with the other Dominatrix, which led to her being hurt.

However, it wasn't the only reason, but I didn't tell him that. No. I had another agenda, altogether. Clarissa's words had resonated somewhere deep inside me. So, whether I wanted to be friends with any of my fellow students or not, was irrelevant. I'm wise enough to know that some of us may be colleagues, upon graduation, and I will need to be able to work with them in the future.

Carlisle's disappointment was palpable and he sounded almost desperate when he asked if he could visit me to talk things over, but I said no. I told him that I wanted a total separation from them all, Annabelle included, for two full weeks. I needed to just throw myself into student life and find myself for a little while. I also said that I didn't want any of them visiting me in Cambridge, ever, because the two sides of my life were never going to blur. I told him flatly, that if they ever did that, I would end our contract and never see them again. He sounded totally shocked when I said that, and then asked me if I wanted to be released from my contract for a little while. Surprisingly, I said yes, I would like that.

He hung up quickly after our discussion. I honestly wasn't shocked, when Katy telephoned me, twenty minutes later. She wanted to know what I'd said to her husband, because he had locked himself in his study and refused to come out or talk to her. I relayed my conversation with him and she was very quiet for a little while, and didn't interrupt, as I spoke to her.

"Will you come home to us when you've stretched your wings?" she asked.

"Yes, I will. I want a break for two weeks and then I will come back, more focussed and more determined to submit fully, but I need to have time to get to know Cambridge and what my life here is going to entail for the next four years. I hope you understand why. It's my own fault," I said, "I didn't consider the clash, time wise, Katy," I explained. "I didn't do my research fully either. I should have realised that I would need more time to adjust to two such massive life changes, and foolishly I didn't. Last weekend was an eye opener for me, and although I do want to come back to you both, I want to change my limits and terms."

"What do you want to change?" Katy asked, quietly.

"Firstly," I said, sounding far more confident than I felt, "I want to have every second weekend here with my friends and with access to the library. My work load at Cambridge is increasing by the day and needs more attention, Katy. The amount of assignments and essays that every lecturer demands is quite phenomenal and on top of that, I'm a competitive fucker and like to do assignments of my own. You know what I'm like. I just want to make sure that neither side of my life suffers because I dedicate more time to one than to the other, if that makes sense."

Katy said nothing for a long moment and I wondered if I'd gone too far this time. "Okay, if that's what you want, then I agree. Reluctantly, Edward, and I want you to know that I'm not happy with this but if this is what you want to do, I accept your decision. Now, is there anything else? I know you want this but I'm not sure it's going to work in the long term. It's very unusual to have two weeks between training sessions this early on, Edward, but I know how pressurised your course is so yes, reluctantly, I agree with that and will make sure that Carlisle and Annabelle understand. They won't like it, obviously, but I will tell them that this is how things are going to be and will amend the contract and send the revised paperwork to you by email. I will also tell them both not to contact you for fourteen days. Okay? What else do you want?"

"Okay," I replied, talking a deep breath, "I don't want to be shared with Caius, his submissives or his trainees. _Ever_. And I mean that, Katy," I said, "I don't care whether he was to blame when Anna was hurt or not, but I do think that both he and Carlisle were far too laissez faire with her safety, and I know Caius wants me and that scares me."

"You will be shared at some point, Edward," Katy explained sounding somewhat exasperated. "You signed up for that and it's a vital part of your training. Carlisle and I always share our submissives, and usually with both John and Caius. Sometimes at the same time, as well as with a selection of others in our circle. It helps both the one being trained and the teacher, especially Carlisle, to focus more and to accept that the new toy isn't their private property outside of their designated playtime. Carlisle sometimes forgets that he has a wife and a very demanding career and when he isn't playing, it's vital that he readjusts to his vanilla life. He struggles with that sometimes. There is something you have to realise as well, and that is that Caius has specifically asked to be involved and help with a training demonstration with you, when you are allowed to play in public. Are you telling me that you refuse to be shared by the dominant or dominatrix of our choice?"

"Yes. I am. I have no issue with being shared. I have always believed that sex is simply sex and as long as it is consensual on both sides, I like the idea of being shared and being told what to do. I want this to happen as soon as possible. I love learning new things and I want to both fuck and be fucked, as much as possible, but I don't want to be fucked by either of them," I said, firmly.

"I need to discuss this with Caius, John and Carlisle, Edward," she said, sighing. "This changes everything that we have already put into place regarding future scenes and some of our planned training. A decision has been made already but I will take some time and talk this through when we meet next. Is that good enough for you? Are you happy to have John acting on your behalf? As an intermediary, in your place, whilst you're at university?"

"I suppose so," I said, begrudgingly. "I trust John, I liked him. I'd play with him, but not that other thing. But, Katy, I mean it when I say that I don't want anyone agreeing to let that slimy piece of shit fuck me, or touch me. Not even a hair on my head, I would safe word. I mean it. If he has to do anything, he can supervise one of the scenes which I take part in but only if you are both present. And John has to be there too. I am not touching him, Katy and under no circumstances is he to touch my body, not in any way. Do you promise?"

"Yes, I agree with that. I won't let him touch you. But if Carlisle decides to allow him to help you in one training session on a more impersonal level, to get rid of him, will you agree to that? He would just help decide what is done to you and who does it? As long as he doesn't touch you. In any way at all and that Carlisle, John and myself agree who the other participants of the scene are? Agreed?" she asked.

"I need to think about that, Katy, but possibly." I stated, unhappily.

"Anything else?" she asked, quietly.

"Yes." I said. "Yes, there is something else, Katy."

"I thought there might be," she said, sighing. "Tell me what else you want?"

"I want to be free to do whatever I want and with whomsoever I want, over the next two weeks. I want to be free to fuck whoever I want to. I don't want to have to ask permission, I just want to be able to do anything I like. Sex, drugs, rock n roll and all that shit, Katy. I want to be a teenager for the first time since I got here. Okay?"

"Would it make any difference if I said no?" she asked, wearily.

"To be honest? Not really. I want freedom. I don't want to feel guilty or uncomfortable; I want to be able to be with my friends when they arrive from London and to do whatever I choose. Okay? I'm inviting Jasper and Emmett up next weekend and I want to be able to go out and enjoy myself." I said sounding arrogant even to my own ears.

"And that means freedom to have sex with people of your choosing, not ours?" she asked, sighing.

"If I want to, yes. I'm not saying that I do want to, Katy; I'm just saying that I want the choice to do it, if I decide that I want to. You know I only practice safe sex so I wouldn't be compromising either of you. But I want this. Do you agree to this changed or not?" I asked.

"Okay, yes, I agree to your requests. Unhappily, but yes, I give you permission to be free for the next fourteen days. _**But, **_Edward, this is for two weeks, and two weeks only. And then come home to us. Carlisle will not be happy with any of these changes, I warn you now, but I will talk them over with him, and you won't be punished in any way. So, for the next two weeks, you are free from us and I don't expect to hear a word from you until two weeks tomorrow, when you return to our home. You will present yourself, naked, and in your submissive's position on your knees outside of my dungeon for my inspection. I then expect you to let me fuck you whilst you fuck my female submissive and no doubt, Carlisle will want you to himself for the night. And don't take any drugs. I can't abide the thought of you taking any drugs. Yes?"

"Yes," I said, grinning. "But if I want a joint or a tab of ecstasy, Katy, I will. Simple as. When I'm off duty, I'm off duty in every way from now on."

"Is that it?" she asks.

"No. Not exactly," I continue. "I don't think that you're going to like this, but this is how it's going to be. And if you don't like it or agree with it, I will end our contract and walk away. Okay?"

"Oh, so we're getting down to the nitty gritty now, are we. Don't push your luck with me, Edward. I've bent to your every wish, so the very least you can do is to treat me with the respect I deserve and demand. So, hurry up and stop messing me around. Just bloody well tell me," she said, sounding less amenable now.

"I want to live my time away from your world in a different manner. I've done a lot of thinking since my journey home with John. He told me about his family life away from the lifestyle, having a wife and children, as well as his career, and although I struggled at first to understand how he could juggle two such different worlds and how his wife could cope with that, I actually find it easier to comprehend now. I want that, Katy." I said.

"You want a wife and family? At eighteen, Edward?" Katy said, sounding shocked.

"God no! I don't mean that! Of course I bloody well don't! But what I do want is to be the perfect submissive when I'm with you three, but out of our contractual time, I want to be free to have relationships with others should I so choose. I don't know if it will work but I want to try it. I don't mean a proper relationship with someone else, but should I choose to have a long term sexual relationship with someone, as I did with Jacinta and Riley, I don't want to have to ask either of you if it's okay to give or get a blow job, or to fuck or be fucked. I will keep your part in my life totally secret and private, but sadly, I don't think I'm destined to be an obedient submissive at all times and I don't want to fail you. Beinga submissive isn't enough for me. I realise now, that I didn't come into your world with my eyes fully opened. I thought of the physical side of things alone and didn't take the psychological aspects into account. Last weekend changed everything for me. It might be enough for Annabelle, but I want a life outside of BDSM. It isn't as important to me as I thought it would be. I will give myself to you, mind, body and soul when we're on our contractual time, but outside of that, I want to live a different life. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, it does, of course it does and to be frank, I'm glad you want this. Carlisle and I don't spend every night wearing PVC and strap-ons, wielding Wartenberg wheels, dildos and chains, you know, Edward! Our day to day lives involve work; take away suppers and reading newspapers whilst we drink our morning tea. Normal, every-day, run of the mill things. Last night I embroidered a duck on his pyjamas whilst he sat and did a crossword. I ask only one thing of you, and that is that you don't hurt my husband, Edward, because if you do, you will have me to deal with," she said coldly before she hung up on me.

Since then, we've drawn up a new set of lists, limits and contracts. And although I'm far happier, the time I do spend with them is more intense. It's so exhausting physically, that I've taken to returning to Cambridge by train because I'm too sore or tired to be trusted behind the wheel of a car. I'm so shattered, that I all but crawl to the station and sleep until I reach Cambridge, where Clarissa meets me in a taxi. She always looks at me oddly, as I limp upstairs to our rooms, and tells me that I should be getting better at riding by now. I just nod and smile and go straight to bed. If only she knew what kind of riding I've really been doing…

Carlisle is more obsessive about me than ever, to the point that I don't respond to ninety percent of his emails or messages when we aren't coming up to a weekend together, because he's driving me nuts. If he's arranging scenes, then I communicate with him, but if he isn't, I just ignore him. He constantly wants to know who I've been sleeping with and whether it's a man or a woman, but I always say the same thing. And that is that the two worlds I now inhabit are totally separate, and as long as I'm safe and don't blur the lines between them, then this one is private and nothing to do with them.

Annabelle is deeply unhappy with my behaviour, and although we're still close, the yearning I had to be in touch with her all the time has eased off. She is still my closest friend, along with Jasper, but in truth, that doesn't mean much. I don't really trust, nor need, anyone now. I have actually started to enjoy being totally and utterly self-sufficient. I used to crave the attention and love of a family. Now I enjoy being me.

And then, finally, of course, there's the physical relationship I've embarked upon with the Black Widow.

She is, without a doubt, an older, far more sexually voracious, experienced and demanding version of Jacinta and in many ways, it's less tiring being fucked by and fucking Katy, Carlisle and Annabelle than it is spending an afternoon in her massive, feather mattress covered bed. She is sexually insatiable and even I struggle to keep up with her at times. She's so multi-orgasmic and can cum countless times and still be raring to go after her every orifice has sucked me dry. However much I fancied Jace and Anna, Harriet is in a league of her own, physically, and I'm as hungry to devour her as she is to gobble me down. Her olive skinned body undulates as we fuck and wrapping myself around her curvaceous, soft, luscious body is mind blowing. She has big boobs, a rounded belly, hips, thighs and backside and handfuls of flesh that I love to suck, chew, bite and hang onto and the biggest nipples I've ever seen. She is soft and velvety and I can't get enough of her.

She ravaged me a week after she gave me her business card.

I let her.

To be honest, I think I'd decided that I wanted her the first time I'd seen her but she got to me first. On the Friday evening after I returned from my disastrous weekend in the country, I visited her flat in the centre of Cambridge. She had invited me over to have a glass of wine and discuss the plans I had for my future. Katy had agreed to my being free and boy did I take advantage of that! After I'd given her the work I was doing of my own volition, Henrietta was stunned by the detailed study I had made of Andre Chikatilo.

Despite the reports that he was tried for fifty three victims, yet claimed there were fifty six, I'd managed to link him to an additional twenty five murders. This was due to his modus operandi. He had attempted and failed to have intercourse with his victims, of both genders, because he couldn't maintain an erection. But then he would cum all over them as he stabbed them to death. Many more victims were killed in a similar manner, inside the confines of the old USSR, but the detailed files on all those other victims were either inadequate or lost. The twenty five I found were all stabbed and covered in semen. She was blown away by this.

Henrietta found my hard work such a turn on, that before I'd closed the door behind me, she was on her knees with my jeans around my ankles and my cock in her mouth. I never did get that promised drink, but I did get the best blow job of my life, before I fucked her six ways to Sunday. After I'd made her squirt for the third time, she bounced up and down on my cock so hard, I felt like it was being strangled.

I've learned so much from her in the short time we've been bed fellows, both educationally and sexually, that I don't regret embarking on this, even with the withering looks my classmates give me every time she asks my opinion on something in the middle of a lecture. And despite almost freezing my arse off when she insisted on fucking me on a punt on the River Cam, despite the thick frost on the ground, I love spending time with her. Her desires and interests are many and varied and seem to mirror my own. In fact, I'm beginning to think that she's the female version of me. Her passions for sex, the law, decent food, and learning match mine in intensity and the spark between us in the lecture hall has made us the talk of the canteen. She yells at me when she disagrees with something I've said and her face turns the colour of a beetroot when I can out do her arguments and debates. The fire than burns between us is quite overwhelming at times. It takes every scrap of strength I have not to run at her and fuck her in front of the entire class after we've screamed and yelled at one another.

I laughed at her last week when I thrashed her during such a conversation, but as she raised her hand in rage to hit me, like she often does when she's fucking me—she loves to slap my face, hard—I wagged a finger at her and shook my head, grinning. She was so enraged that she had to leave the room as everyone watched her seething silently. It was very funny.

The snow is falling more heavily now, and if it continues like this, we might just get a white Christmas after all. Clarissa will be beside herself with excitement, but then, I don't really know why. She comes from Scotland, and snow is no real novelty to her. I remember she told me that they often get snowed in and have to get food, fuel and animal feed air lifted in to them by the RAF at nearby Lossiemouth.

Making myself another cup of extra strong coffee, I look around me and rub my eyes, trying to stifle a yawn. Henrietta fucked me so much the night before that my cock hurts and as I readjust myself in my jeans, I wince. Despite the festive touches in the corridor, canteen, pubs and even the boat house, my rooms remain as they were, without any sign of Christmas other than the odd card dotted here and there, and those are all from some of the girls in my course.

I've been much too busy studying and becoming a bit of a sex toy expert, at the hands of my favourite lecturer, obviously, to bother with anything festive. She of course likes to wield a strap-on and fuck me and she is thrilled that not only am I up for that, but that I love being fucked anally too. She's had to bribe and cajole the other students that she's had affairs with, to let her near their arses.

Wiping the work surface down after I've washed my cup and coffee pot, I smile when I knock over the small, slightly shabby paper robin that Clarissa had given me to try to take away the sparse, anti-Christmas air in my flat. I like my home to remain plain and simple, unlike Clarissa's. Hers, on the other hand, looks like a failed origami fanatic has been let loose with reams of multi-coloured paper, glitter, glue and ribbons and has just thrown crap everywhere. Every shelf, picture frame, spare bit of coving, mirror and door frame is festooned with paper chains, streamers and bunting in every colour and pattern imaginable.

It looks as if a clown has exploded in there.

There are clusters of deflating, dejected looking balloons haphazardly pinned all over the ceiling and there are some moth eaten looking paper bells stuck to her front door. She's even changed her doorbell so that it peels out a wonky, tinny sounding '_Jingle Bells'_ whenever you press it. Ugh. I've taken to knocking instead.

She's stuck cotton wool all over her windows and mirrors, and cut out shapes from white paper that are meant to be snowflakes. They look nothing like snowflakes and she's even sprayed fake snow all over the windows to look like drifting snow. And then there's the pathetic excuse for a Christmas tree that sits on a table in front of her windows. It's nothing but a bit of wire with old faded gold tinsel wrapped around the eight sparse branches. She has some green fairy lights coiled around them and there are a few tarnished looking, geriatric baubles, robins and bells hanging limply from them and it is really tacky and scruffy. Remembering the magnificent treespecimens that the Whitlocks and Masens always exhibit, I shake my head in disbelief at this one. A doll wrapped in bits of toilet paper and tarnished looking tinfoil decorates the top and makes the tree lean over at a very bizarre angle because she's much too big, and heavy, for the little thing to hold upright.

When I asked her why she didn't just buy a new tree, she explained that this one had belonged to her mother and since she died when Clarissa was a young child, she couldn't bear to part with it. That left me feeling suitably chastised because I know only too well what it's like not to have a mother. Actually, I felt like crap and couldn't stop apologising to her. When she continued to tell me that every decoration meant something to her, I wanted to shoot myself. One particularly flea ridden looking robin had belonged to her granny, a sprig of satiny holly that was partially unravelled had been her mother's and all the others had a similar story. When I apologised again, she waved it off but the next day, I took her out and bought her a new bauble for her collection. It was my way of apologising and I said she should start a little set from her university days. She was thrilled by the idea.

We had a great time when we visited the much too hot, horribly gaudy shops on Tuesday afternoon. She bought a hideous red, sequin covered peacock with a lurid orange tail as her new decoration declaring that this would add much needed colour to her little tree. Anymore colour and I will need sodding sunglasses to enable me to enter her rooms. Sighing, I then bought her a small glass dove that was both elegant and classy and so it was very obviously going to be totally out of place in her flat but I liked it and told her this would be a memory of our friendship. It looked like she was going to cry when I told her that. Her reaction affected me so much that I told her to buy a few other things as her tree was a little too bare. I was being sarcastic, the tiny little thing didn't have a branch to spare and each one was cluttered with about ten tatty looking bits of shit, but Clarissa, of course, thought I was serious. She bought a fairy, an angel, a glittery Christmas tree, a sequinned Christmas cracker and a Christmas pudding, all in different vulgar shades and of course they were all were shimmering and sparkly. Everyone turned to stare at us as she squealed and whooped with excitement, as she wrapped her arms around me and lifted me up in the air, when I handed over my credit card and wouldn't let her pay for anything.

As we sat drinking hot chocolate and eating croissants in a small café, after we'd almost finished our shopping, a thought suddenly crossed my mind. Remembering the wistful look on her face when she had told me about her mother's tree, my mother's face flashed into my mind. We used to have a massive tree in the hallway in the Highgate house when I was a child and it was always beautifully and perfectly decorated. I wondered where those decorations had gone and if any had belonged to my mother.

Thinking about my own mother made guilt prickle at the back of my brain and sighing, I reached across the table and patted Clarissa on her hand. I then asked her if perhaps she would like it if I helped her refurbish her beloved little tree. I explained that we could extend the length of time she could keep it with a little tender loving care. She thought that was a jolly spiffing idea so we bought a large bagful of replacement tinsel. I also bought her some new lights so that the ancient ones she had didn't burn our building down. She chose red. Of course she did. Minimalism and subtlety are words that have bypassed her completely. The assistant was thrilled that we'd returned to the shop and she slipped her number into the bag with the receipt. I saw what she was doing and screwed it up and threw it in the bin as soon as we got outside. I don't have the time, energy or bloody inclination to add anyone else to my rota of fucking responsibilities!

That night, I bought us a curry and Clarissa and I sat happily side by side, re-tinselling her little tree. She was delighted with its _'rebirth' _as she called it. The next day, she told everyone what a wonderful friend I was to her. That touched me in ways I wouldn't have expected and she named her tree 'Ned' in my honour. Sigh. I really fucking wish she wouldn't call me that.

My flat in London remained resolutely free of all signs of festivity, as well as my rooms at Cambridge had, up to that point. But unable to get the idea of what could be hidden within the Highgate attics, I drove back to London the next day because I didn't have any lectures to attend. Luckily for me, I'm always way ahead when it comes to homework and studying so I could afford to waste a day indulging myself by taking a journey back in time.

Henrietta had wanted to come with me, to see where I lived as a child, but I refused. I told her to back off a bit because I wanted to keep things less personal than that between us. She looked a little taken aback but said she would try not to interfere in my private life, so long as I didn't stop spending time with her because she needed me around. I knew that was a euphemism for _'please don't stop fucking me,'_ but that was fine by me.

I remember my drive to London in crystalline detail. I don't know why I'd been so nervous about revisiting my childhood home, but I was, and the feeling of foreboding had only increased the closer I got to the city boundary.

Instinctively, I put one of my mother's concertos in the CD player to calm myself down. Parking in the driveway of the house gave me a peculiar feeling as I climbed out and locked the door. It was strange yet oddly familiar at the same. I hadn't set foot in the house since my father's wake; yet, I felt nothing but apprehension as I walked up the smart, pristine York Stone path. The tiny little knot work plants that decorated the garden were exactly the same as I remembered and the entire place was devoid of colour of any description.

When I knocked on the door, it was answered by someone whom I presumed was the housekeeper. She looked absolutely stunned when she saw me but said nothing. She couldn't really because her mouth dropped open and stayed that way when she saw me. When I told her who I was and that I had come to look around, her hand flew over her mouth and she took a backward step. "You… you… oh my… you look just like your…"

"Yes, I know what you're going to say. You mean that I look just like my mother." I said, sounding bored even to myself. "May I come in?"

She wasn't as shocked as I was, however, to see that the large, shiny black front door was embellished with a Christmas wreath and that the hallway was decorated with a massive, fifteen foot high tree, beautifully decorated, even though there wasn't actually anyone living there now.

"I didn't expect you, Sir," she said.

"Why would you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "And please don't call me sir. My name is Edward, Edward Cullen and if you must call me anything other than Edward, you may call me _'Mr Cullen._' Okay?" I said to her, as she led me into a small sitting room with an open fire at the back of the house. "This is our living room, Mr Cullen," she said. "I won't be long. Please, make yourself at home," she finished as she sort of bowed and left me alone.

I scowled at her because I truly hate that kind of shit and after sitting down in a large, squashy armchair, I looked around. The room was warm, comfortable and cluttered with books, paintings, photographs and far too much furniture but was spotlessly clean. When she returned, she was carrying a heavy looking tray. She poured me a cup of tea with shaky hands and tried to make small talk as she offered me a whole selection of cakes, biscuits and shortbread. I knew that I was making her nervous, I tend to have that effect on people, but I no longer care about that fact and didn't do anything to make her more comfortable.

"So, who are you?" I asked, as I sipped my tea from a bone china cup.

"Oh… I'm the… the… the housekeeper…" she stammered.

"Yes, I'd gathered that already, but what's your name?" I asked before I helped myself to another jammy dodger.

"Oh, sorry, Sir… um… I mean… I'm Mrs… er… Jane Bunten. Sorry," she all but whispered.

She was in her fifties and very overweight with slightly chaotic light brown curly hair. Every part of her quivered as she moved, and she looked warm and kind, despite finding it hard to actually make eye contact with me. She had a soft, gentle prettiness and smelled of roses.

"Do you live here on your own?" I asked, looking around as I followed her.

"Er… no… no. No, I live here with Ted, my husband. He keeps the house in good order and looks after the garden. There is a large back garden, Sir, and it's a lot of work for him, let me tell you," she said.

Smiling at her, I walked to the window, to see just how big the garden really was. I'd forgotten quite how large the entire place was. "Do you and your husband really do the entire house and garden on your own? I can't believe that. You do everything?" I asked, disbelievingly. The place is enormous and it must be a never ending job to maintain it to a high standard.

"Yes, sorry, Sir… I mean… Mr Cullen," she mumbled. "I do it all… um… yes… Do you need anything or do you want me to leave you alone to look around?" she asked.

"I'd like to have a look around actually," I said, smiling at her. "And please do continue with what you were doing, I won't get in your way and have no intention of being here long. I just want to look for something that I think might be stored in the attics."

"You want to go into the attics?" she asked. Stopping to look at me, she held out a cake plate covered with sliced fruit cake and looked concerned.

"Yes. Is that going to be a problem?" I asked,as I accepted the offered and delicious looking Dundee cake.

"No. of course not, Sir… um… Mr… er… it's just that no one's been in there since before your father… um… passed… um…" she said, sounding flustered. "It's been… um… a long time, Sir… um… it'll be very dusty up there…"

"Well it's not an issue, is it?" I asked. "You don't store anything personal up there, do you? I won't go near anything you would rather I didn't. Just tell me what is yours and I will stay away from it."

"No, there's nothing of ours up there… it's just… just… um… I used to work for your father you know? I looked after you after the late Mister… um… that is… um… until you moved out. Don't you remember me at all?" she asked, as she tried to smile at me. She seemed to get more nervous by the minute.

"No, sorry," I said. "I wasn't here very often up until he died; I was farmed out to school and summer camps, winter camps, Easter camps. Anything to keep me out from under his feet."

"Yes, I remember," she said, sipping her tea. "You were a quiet, gentle little soul. So quiet that Ted and I rarely knew you were even here. You were either in your room or in the summerhouse. Do you have plans? You know? To move back here or to sell the house? I know it's none of my business…" she started.

"No, I have no plans. But I won't be selling the house," I stated, flatly, cutting her short because she's right, it isn't any of her business. "Now if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to look around, please? Alone."

"Oh. Yes. Sir, Sorry, of course. Here are the keys. Every room is locked after I've cleaned it each day. There are some very valuable items here so the executors insisted everything was kept secure. And these…" she said as she slid a picture to the side before she opened a wall safe and pulled out another bunch of keys and a small black book, "are for all the different parts of the attic. And these are for the silver closet. This is the alarm code for the attics and this is the code for the silver room. Um… there are codes for all the safes dotted around the house too. Some of them I haven't been inside and only the executors know the codes. Um… I think that's everything… er… okay. Do you require anything else, Sir?"

"No, thank you, that's absolutely fine. I'll find my own way around and I promise I won't be any trouble," I said, smiling at her now. She's a nice lady and I've been an arse to her.

"Take your time, Sir," Mrs Bunten said, as she took my cup and saucer from me, "It is, after all, your home, Mr Cullen."

Shit.

My home?

I suppose it was my house, once upon a time, but it was never my home.

Yeah… so much for not being there for long.

I spent the next two hours walking from room to room, open mouthed at the collections my family had amassed over the decades and possibly centuries. Paintings… stamps… books… coins… statues… ornaments… medals… military memorabilia… musical instruments… tapestries… china… you name it, there were collections of everything.

Walking closer, I ran my fingers over a wall hanging that looked ancient, and I frowned, racking my brain because there, right in the centre of the tapestry was the pelican pecking its own breast that Clarissa had told me about. I vaguely remembered my grandmother saying that I was to be proud of my name because our family could be traced back to Henry VIII and that our fortune had been amassed from lands given to us by the Tudor Monarchs. I'd forgotten about that… and as I stared at some of the paintings that hung in the main entrance hall, I scowled. I didn't know who any of these bloody people were.

If I'd been impressed by the Hale's house—I wasn't anymore—this property took my breath away. Its contents made them look like my poor relations. The vast majority of rooms looked like they were part of a museum and most of them, I don't remember ever even being inside before.

The entire massive, morgue-quiet place is a house, not a home as Mrs Bunten had said, unlike the Whitlock's and Masen's or even the Hale's homes in many ways. There are pictures of relative's that I've never seen, let alone heard of and as I wander around, I stop and smile at a painting of my granny. She was lovely and my heart clenches when I realise that I still miss her. She's wearing her riding outfit, complete with a whole fox fur, including its head, wrapped around her shoulders. Hunting isn't for me, but I do remember that she loved it and that her game keeper was Master of the Hunt for a while. When she died, her estate in Gloucestershire was sold off and the money was invested in some shitty thing my father was doing as he raped the land in Africa. Grandmamma loved her horses, but they were also sold off when she died. All her other possessions were left to me, including her jewellery, books and vast collections of china and porcelain. The brooch that she always wore caught my eye in the painting. It's in the shape of a flower and a small bud and is beautiful. Frowning, I suddenly wondered where it was.

When I went into the music room, I gasped before I stop dead in my tracks. There, in front of me was, what I imagined, must have been my mother's grand piano with sheet music still on the stand. There was a large display of white roses on a small side table and the blinds were pulled down at an angle so that the sun didn't land on the old wood. I'd never seen the piano before and as I walked closer, my fingers itched to touch the ebony and ivory keys knowing that she had touched them and that by being close to them, I was closer to her.

Clenching my fists, I turned around and left the room, forcing myself to keep walking. If I'd touched that instrument, I would have fallen apart and cried, and I couldn't do that. I just couldn't.

Eventually, I made my way to the attics and was stunned by the size of them. Inappropriately, I thought that this massive, cavernous space would make an amazing play area and wondered briefly why Carlisle and Katy had decided to have a dungeon and not an attic room. Walking around, my cock twitched when I imagined various pieces of equipment, made out of dark wood, decorating it.

Shaking the idea from my head, I rummaged around for hours and as I pulled a thick linen cloth off a pile of pictures, I dropped to my knees and tears trickled down my face as I stared, open mouthed, at the item before me. A huge oil painting of my mother was in front of me, and my fingers quivered as I reached forwards and touched her face, for the very first time. I'd seen photographs of her, but even those were few and far between. There were more images of her available online, than I had in my possession, but none of them could possibly compare with that painting.

She was laughing and her thick, shiny, coppery bronze hair was pulled over one shoulder, secured with an emerald clip. She had a vibrant green dress on that made her eyes look vivid and huge and through my tear blurred vision, I had to acknowledge that she looked like a female version of me. I look just like her. The jewels around her neck and decorating her ears were bright and beautiful but I'd never seen them before and I didn't know where they were either. She looked so lovely… so pretty and happy. Why had he locked her away in here? All alone in the dark and in this dusty, lonely space, away from the light? Well, there was no dust, but still.

Picking her up, I struggled to carry her down the six flights of stairs. "Mrs Bunten! MRS BUNTEN! MRS BUNTEN! MRS BUNTEN!" I yelled out.

"Yes, Sir?" she replied, her head appearing around the corner as she then puffed as she waddled towards me, with her sleeves rolled up and flour all over her bright red apron. "What's happened, Sir? Is everything alright? Have you hurt yourself, young master? TED! TED! HELP US TED! MISTER CULLEN IS HURT!"

"Stop over reacting and panicking, Mrs Bunten!" I snapped. "Please. Stop worrying, nothing's happened to me. I just want to know why in the name of God my father relegated my mother's painting into the attics."

"Oh…" she said, looking at me and blushing. "Well… um… when your mother… um…" she stammered.

"Died, Mrs Bunten, when my mother died! She died!" I said, annoyed.

"Yes, um… sorry… yes… well, when your mother left this earth, Sir, they say your father couldn't bear to see anything that reminded him of her. He packed all her things away. Her jewellery and clothes were all packaged away, along with all her personal possessions. The only thing he left out was the piano and he never entered that room again. Ever. His only instructions were that it was to be dusted, hovered and polished daily and that there were to be fresh white roses, her favourite flowers, next to it at all times. The music hasn't been touched since that last day… um…" she mumbled, looking uncomfortable.

"She has some lovely jewellery on in this painting, Mrs Bunten," I said, sniffing loudly, "What happened to it?"

"Oh… um… well… her jewellery is in a bank vault, obviously, along with her more valuable possessions like her compositions and some of her heirlooms, but everything else is in the attics, Sir. Including her clothes. The rest of her belongings are in the furthest attic space, Sir. Do you want me to come upstairs with you and show you? I'm guessing this must be hard for you… The Master wanted them to be at the far end so that he didn't have to… um… and… er… none of the boxes have been opened since she di…" she stops, staring at me. I didn't make any sign that I felt anything but boredom but my stomach was sitting at the back of my throat. "Sorry, Sir… er… Mr… um… since then… but everything is labelled and numbered so that you can see where each individual item is. I have an itinerary somewhere… I won't be a moment…" she said before she pursed her lips, scratched her head and shuffled away.

Moments later, she came back with a thick red leather bound ledger.

"What's this?" I asked taking it from her and opening it in the middle. Rows upon rows of numbers and names sat in perfect lines and scowling I looked up at her. "Huh?"

"It's a list of where everything is and what is in every box. Do you want me or Ted to come upstairs with you and help you find what you're looking for?" she asked, smiling gently.

"No… no, thank you…" I said, scanning the pages, "May I keep this for a while? I would like to take it back to Cambridge with me and read through it. Would that be okay?"

"Yes, Sir," she said, "Of course you can. It's your possession, Sir. But please keep it safe, it's the only copy I have. I think the executors have a scanned version but this is the only one I have ever seen and there are hundreds of boxes up there. This makes it far easier to find things."

Nodding, I walked away from her as she continued talking and headed back upstairs. Box four hundred and twenty three in the furthest area of the attics was labelled "Christmas Decorations." There were five large, heavy boxes that had labels stating that they were decorations for the house. And beside them I found several small cardboard boxes filled with delicate, very old decorations. My mother's distinctive, elaborate and looping handwriting was on the lids. Staring at it, I realised for the first time that my writing was almost identical to hers. I knew it was her writing because I had her journal and I sat for ages, running my fingers over the thick cardboard without picking it up, touching where her hand had once been before I knuckled down and started peeling the tape away.

At some point, a light tap on the door made me look up and a tall, thin, grey haired, smiley faced man was looking at me.

"Well hello, Eddie, laddie," he said. "My goodness. It's good to see you, boy. And haven't you grown up into such a handsome young man? I always knew you would. You were the image of your beautiful mother from birth and your daddy was a good looking fellow too. I'm so happy to see you again. I didn't think I would see you again and you haven't changed much, just got taller. Welcome home, son."

Scowling, I looked at him and was about to tell him not to call me that when the penny dropped and I put my hand across my mouth in shock. I remembered him. He used to take me to school and bought me my first burger.

He was my chauffeur.

"Jane thought you might be hungry, lad, so here you go," he said, smiling. He'd brought me a large helping of beef stew and dumplings made by his wife and as I sat cross-legged on the floor, he sat on a packing case and talked to me.

He was genuinely interested in me and my life and I vaguely remembered that he always had been. I told him all about Eton and university and we laughed as we discussed our love of cricket and rugby in between mouthfuls. I realised then that my interest in cricket came from him because he was the one who introduced me to it when I was six and used to talk to me about it all the time. He used to spend hours in the garden throwing a ball at my bat so that I could practice. Even then I was a competitive little fucker.

He explained that he wasn't married in those days; but that a year before my father died, he'd married Jane and she moved in to be the residential house keeper. He said that he'd been my mother's driver and that after she'd died, my father changed overnight.

"Why?" I asked as I shoved a whole dumpling in my mouth. "I thought he didn't give a fuck about anyone but himself?"

"No, son," he said, shaking his head. "That's not right. I don't know why you were never told anything nice about your daddy, but I can promise you, they were very much in love. When she died, so did he. He kept breathing but he wasn't alive any more. He changed so that we didn't know who he was any more."

"I don't understand that…" I muttered. "He ignored me completely…"

"Don't you ever ask yourself why?" he said, smiling sadly.

"No, I try not to think about it too much." I said, whispering. "No one has ever talked to me about her… I know nothing about her apart from the fact that I look like her and she played the piano."

"Do you really need me to tell you?" he asked, barely audibly.

"Yes, I'd like to know…"

"Look in the mirror, son. Look in the mirror. You are like your mother with short hair and without the lovely dresses she always wore. She was so pretty… kind, funny and sweet. She was very ladylike but she had a mischievous sense of humour and could be quite a naughty wee girlie. Everyone loved her. Everyone. But especially your daddy. I remember when the nanny brought you home from the hospital. I drove you home, did you know that? Your father was drugged up to the eyeballs and wasn't capable of looking after himself, let alone you. He collapsed in the delivery room when they said that they couldn't save her and he didn't see you until you were a week old. I arranged for a nanny to help out. I didn't know how to look after a child and he shut himself away. He never recovered. He was a lovely man until she died. His nature changed overnight and I never saw him smile again."

That put me off my food. I'd never even thought that he'd been heartbroken at the loss of my mother. He should have sent me to live with my grandmother because she, at least, wanted me around.

"He hated me…" I said flatly.

"No, lad," he said. "He hated himself and even more, he hated the Cullen name. If it hadn't been for the fact that they had wanted to keep the family lineage going, she wouldn't have died. He blamed himself and he blamed his mother. He couldn't look at you and he couldn't look at your mother's picture either, that's why her painting was put up here. It was painted when she was pregnant with you and she was so happy. She wanted a child so badly, she was more proud of the family history than your father was. She wanted to keep the name going. He was happy just as they were."

"Where did it hang?" I asked, quietly, sniffing. The dust was affecting my eyes and itching my nose, you understand.

"In the drawing room, Eddie," he said, squeezing my shoulder. "Above the fire place. She looked perfect there."

"I want it to hang in the entrance hall, above the fire," I said, without thinking. "I want it to be the first thing that anyone sees when the door is opened."

"Of course, laddie," he said in his broad Scottish accent. "I'll see to it on Monday. Do you want anything else changing? There's a fine painting of your father up there too. Shall I bring that down?"

"No. I don't want his picture near hers. Not yet. In fact, maybe not ever," I said, coldly.

"Oh. Right…" he said, sounding a little shocked. But I don't care, that's how I feel. "Will you be moving back here sometime soon? This house hasn't been a home for over eighteen years. This is your home and this is where you belong. It might be time to put the heart back into it. Jane and I would look after you, son…"

Staring at him for a long moment, I smiled and nodded at him because he's right, this is where I belong. "Yes, I think I will…" I said.

I arrived looking for decorations and I left having found a new house to live in.

When he patted my hand and left me alone again, I continued staring at the boxes.

Sitting on the floor of the attic, I held the boxes that had belonged to my mother for a long time before I opened them. Every decoration was nestled in plain slightly yellowing tissue paper. Thinking about what Ted had just told me, I shook my head, I couldn't understand how my father could have turned away from me like that when I needed him most. Not when I look at the way Jace and Riley are with Mistral and how excited they are about the fact that they're pregnant again. My father couldn't even bear to look at me. Opening another box, I took one of my mother's handkerchiefs and stuffed it into my pocket and after wiping my eyes and nose—I had a slight dust allergy, nothing else—it had nothing to do with emotions or any of that shit—I took the boxes and journal downstairs and after putting my jacket on, before I said goodbye to Mrs Bunten, who hugged and squeezed me and oddly, I was relieved that all the earlier formality had disappeared.

"You're a nice boy, Eddie," Ted said, clasping my hand in his. "I always loved that we shared the same first name. Be a good lad and don't leave it six long years to come home again."

Ted asked if I would like him to make up a bed for me in my old room, but I thanked him and declined the offer because I wanted to return to Cambridge. Looking up, I smiled seeing his wife hovering by the doorway, nervously. I said I would return during the Christmas holidays to discuss my future decisions with them both and to put some changes in motion. I wanted to move a few things around and pack a lot of stuff away. If I was to live there, I couldn't live in a museum. I wanted it to be a house and somewhere suitable for me to entertain in when I had qualified. I thanked them both for their kindness and pulled my jacket on and said that it would be nice getting to know them better when I moved in and that I wanted them to stay on with me.

I promised that I would be in touch, and left.

Deciding to stay in London overnight after all because I suddenly felt very tired, I stopped at a greengrocers close to my flat and bought a small, real tree in a pot. I'd never decorated a tree before and after putting my mother's music on the CD player, I used her precious glass ornaments to decorate it while I ate a bacon sandwich. I placed it on a side table in front of my French windows and stared at it. I was the only person to touch the glass since she'd died and somehow, it comforted me. I didn't use small lights, I didn't need them, the baubles were pretty enough on their own. And I sat that night with the ceiling lights dimmed and cried remembering Ted's words as I watched them twinkle in the twilight of my warehouse apartment. Strangely, it made it feel like a home.

I still can't understand why my father hated me. I hadn't asked to be born and it wasn't my fault that my mother died. Or maybe it was… I don't know what killed her and I was too scared to ask anyone. If it was my fault… how would I live with that? It had to have been my fault… had she lost a lot of blood? Did her heart just stop? No one had ever told me anything about her or about him either come to that, and now that I'd started thinking about them both, I couldn't stop. I cried for hours and even Annabelle was surprised when she rang wanting to know where I was after Clarissa had answered my flat phone in Cambridge. When I told her what I'd been doing, and my voice sounded weird, even to my own ears, Anna got upset because she was worried about me.

She asked if I wanted her to come over and stay with me for the night, but I declined her kind offer and said that I wanted to be on my own and to think and work. I explained that I had decorated my tree with my mother's decorations and she was shocked. She knew all about my mother, obviously—well she knew that she'd died, but that was about all I'd told her—and said I shouldn't be alone. I told her about my conversation with Ted, omitting much of it, but telling her about my father. She was very quiet when I told her what he had said about my father collapsing when my mother died.

She tried to insist that I let her, or Carlisle, come to me because she said finding out things like this after eighteen years would affect anyone and that I shouldn't be left alone to brood. I thanked her for her kindness and concern, but said no and that I was absolutely okay, and hung up not allowing her a chance to try and talk me around, because, oddly, I was fine.

I didn't sleep a wink, of course. But I sat all night, listening to my music, drinking horrifically strong coffee and working on my essays for university.

My drive back to Cambridge was another quiet affair, with my mother's music playing quietly in the background and I felt jittery and exhausted due to too much caffeine and not enough sleep. I'd kept myself pretty much to myself for the last few days and however hard I'd tried, Ted's words about my father's broken heart kept popping into my head and I couldn't bring myself to speak to anyone. Hence Clarissa's need to see me today because she was feeling ignored after I'd shut myself away, ignoring everyone and using studying as an excuse to keep them all, apart from Henrietta—obviously—at arms-length. I'm still training with the other boys, but I haven't spoken to them either and have deliberately stayed away from the pub so that I don't have to answer any questions.

Running my fingers through my hair, I wipe my face, and stare in the bathroom mirror in my student lodgings. I don't know how my cheeks have got wet, and I look like I've been crying, but then I guess, that's what reminiscing will do to you. And of course, I'm tired and my eyes ache from spending too much time staring at the computer screen. It has nothing to do with emotions that would be just a stupid waste of time. Brushing my hair, I take a deep breath in preparation for what my poor stomach is about to encounter and brace myself for the audible and culinary assault.

Rolling my neck, I lock my door before I knock on Clarissa's and brace myself for the onslaught of noise and Christmas cheer.

"You're late," she says, grabbing me and hugging me tightly. "You're five minutes late and that's not like you. I miss you, Neddy; I haven't seen much of you lately. Where were you just now? Were you with _her_? And your face is wet, is it raining?" she asks. "What's the matter with your eyes? They're very red and watery. Do you need glasses? Are you suffering from eyestrain? Torqi's eyes look like that when he spends too long looking at porn on the computer. Have you been watching pornographic films?"

"Um… no," I say, "Don't be ridiculous, Clarissa. I washed my face; I'm really tired and tried to wake myself up a bit before I came to visit you. It's been a busy week. I've got essays up to my eyeballs and then of course there's…"

"Happy Christmas, Neddy," Clarissa says, smiling at me as she changes the subject, knowing that I was going to mention my social life.

"Yeah… and you," I say, dismissively. It's getting boring now. She's said 'Happy Christmas' to me EVERY fucking day since the middle of November and I think she plans on doing it every time we meet until we break up for the holidays. "I don't get why you have to say that to me every time I walk through your door, Clarissa," I say, sighing. "It isn't Christmas for three fucking weeks. And I haven't even started my Christmas shopping yet," I grumble as she shoves a package into my hands. "What's this?" I ask, frowning at the crumpled, jolly Santa and holly covered red paper is taped together with so much cellotape that I'm going to have to use scissors to cut it open. The paper looks like it needs ironing, it's so creased that I'm pretty sure it's been recycled from a previous year.

Well that's me fucked then.

Poor Mistral.

I have the morals of a local tom cat. Much to my horror, they'd asked Douglas to be his other Godfather and some hippy chic called Moyra who has moved in with them, and shares their bed, to be his Godmother. Even I blanched when they told me that, but Jacinta is adamant that she wants to ensure that Riley's needs are taken care of when she's heavily pregnant again. After the way she behaved during her pregnancy and the delivery of Mistral, I can't honestly imagine him doing without any kind of physical release.

"What have you bought the boy as a gift?" she asks, fiddling about with a very odd looking plate of canapés, decorated with something that looks alarmingly like mistletoe. I hope it isn't. That shit is poisonous.

"Um… I've put some money in a fund for him and I went to Aspinal's last weekend and bought a couple of photo albums. I've put pictures of his parents and their life, the clean side of it, in Ireland in one of them. I filled the other one with very chaste pictures of them both, as well as me and Douglas, when we were all at Eton. A friend then dragged me into Mappin and Webb and I bought him a silver picture frame with a picture of him and me in it, and a silver quaich."

"A quaich! How lovely! I got one for a christening gift too; it had belonged to my mother before me and her mother before her. It's beautiful. Art nouveau, and I think it came from Liberty and was designed by that Knox fellow. Daddy keeps some golf tees and old balls in it on the windowsill in the scullery," she says, smiling and clapping her hands excitedly. "Open your gift, Neddykins. Please!"

"I'll take this," I say, waving the bulky parcel in the air, "back to London with me, Clarissa and I'll open it on Christmas day. Okay?"

"Please open it now, Neddy," she says, smiling. "I want to see your reaction when you see it for the first time."

Shit. I hope I can plaster a decent smile on a pretty respectable poker face so that I don't upset her.

"If I open this now, Clarissa," I begin, "I doubt I'll have any other presents to open on Christmas day itself, or certainly none wrapped like this, anyway. Can't I save it for the big day?" I ask, hopefully, with a sinking stomach.

"No. I want you to wear it to the christening, dear boy, you will need to try it on and see if it fits. I might need to alter it so that it's the perfect fit for you," she says, pursing her lips.

Oh God…

"You've got me something to wear? For the christening?" I ask, nervously. "I already have a new suit you know… and shoes… and a shirt… and a…" I say, trailing off as I try to fend off her enthusiasm.

I fail.

Of course I do.

"You know how good I am at making clothes, and I'm flat out right now, Neddy. I have both mine and Ali's outfits to alter for the ball, and I've got to pick your kilt up tomorrow and on top of that, I've got lots of studying and essays to write, presents to buy and wrap, food shopping to do, and I haven't iced my Christmas cakes yet, and I'm running out of time and if you don't do this now…"

Sigh.

"Okay. Okay, OKAY!" I yell. "Let's just get on with it. I'll sodding well open it, if you insist…" I say, plonking down on her couch and knocking back the strong tasting foul dark coloured liquid that she thrust in my hand. It tastes like shite but frankly, I have a horrid feeling that my loins might just need to be girded right now.

Fussing about, she pours us another glass of repulsive tasting Amontillado sherry and brings some oddly singed smelling mince pies, decorated with real holly, from the kitchen. A pot of natural yoghurt is already sitting on the table with a large spoon sticking out of it. It looks like there's still some congealed gravy attached to the handle. Ugh.

"I didn't have any double cream," she explains when she sees me scowling at the table accoutrement. "Or single cream, or indeed, any cream, so yoghurt will have to do. It's Greek yoghurt so it'll be nice, Neddy, and you can sprinkle some sugar on top if you want to. Now, open your present and then tuck in. I'm ravishing!" she finishes firmly.

"I think you mean ravenous…" I mutter as the parcel in my hand seems to grow incrementally every time I look at the damned thing.

Okay then. Sighing, I attempt to gird my loins and get it over and done with. Scowling, I sigh and decide to do the least offensive thing first of all, and that's open the present, because her cooking is so dire. So, trying to smile, I begin carefully peeling the gunky, old sticky tape away, I slowly begin to unwrap the bulky parcel. Despite my good intentions, I gasp when the paper finally falls apart and my mouth drops open, removing any trace of the fake smile I'd managed to muster up.

Rendered speechless, I've never seen anything like it and struggle to raise my eyes to hers as the 'thing' in my hands, holds me totally mesmerised.

"Do you like it, Neddy poos? Do you? It took me _weeks_ to make for you. I unravelled lots of my old socks and jumpers to have enough wool to make the right size. I started going to jumble sales in early November to get second hand sweaters to use for it. I think its striking, don't you?"

"Striking? Um… yes… striking… that's one word for it… Clarissa. I can't think of anything else suitable to describe it…" I mumble.

"What do you mean? Don't you think it's beautiful? Don't you like it?" she asks, her face falling as she looks up at me.

Shit. She's upset. I can't bear seeing her upset.

"No. It's not that," I say, "don't get the wrong idea, Clarissa; it's just so… so… um… I love… hell… it's… er… it… um… and striking isn't a strong enough word…" I say, stunned as I lift up the most monstrous looking thing I've ever seen, dropping the paper to the floor. I know I'm lying to her but there's no way I can tell her the truth.

I don't quite know how to describe it, to be honest. It's too long to be a jumper, but it's too short to be a Kaftan. And it's constructed out of large, multi coloured, crocheted patchwork squares.

Fucking hell.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? Ali was _soooo_ jealous that I didn't make it for her! She had to do with a beret and some hot pants with braces. I didn't have enough wool left to make her a cardigan like I made for you. Ooh! There's a knitted belt in the paper too! Don't throw that away, love! Ooooh! And keep the paper! I can use it again!"

Shit. If Alina dresses like that, she'll look like she's wearing some sort of fucking perverted lederhosen.

Frankly, I want to burn the entire fucking thing. Present and paper. There's no way I'm wearing that to the christening. I've bought a black suit from Gucci for the occasion and have a white shirt, black tie and new handmade shoes all waiting for me in my flat in London.

"Um… don't you think it might make me stand out a bit?" I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose, frantically trying to find a reason not to wear it that won't upset her. "I know it's a special day for me as well, Clarissa, but surely I need to blend in a bit? This is all about the baby, Jacinta and Riley really, isn't it?"

"Oh! I've thought about that!" she says, in her usual exuberant manner. " I've knitted Mistral a christening blankie! Look!" she squeals handing me a rainbow striped blanket, hat, something that looks like boxing gloves and the oddest looking long socks I've ever seen. They're beautifully made and very soft, and she's obviously taken a lot of time and care over their creation, but Jesus, we're going to a bloody religious ceremony, not a Gay Pride parade. And more importantly, Jace's father is bloody conducting the service, so there's no damned way that the baby will be dressed up to look like a reject from their hippy encampment. The Reverend already thinks that we're all more than a little bit odd. What the fuck will he make of us now, when we turn up looking like rainbow sprites?

"Oh…" I say, clutching the gifts tightly, as I try to change the subject. "Um… what are those? Boxing gloves? Why in the name of God does a baby need a pair of boxing gloves?"

"Oh my goodness! For someone so clever, you really are more than a little bit dim at times, darling boy! They're booties, Ned, booties! We don't want the poor darling having cold tooties in the chapel, do we? Churches can be such terribly chilly places!"

"Oh… okay…" I mutter, scowling, not knowing what else to say to that statement.

"Please give them to dear Jacinta from me. I've made her a hat and a nice long scarf for Riley. She's such a lovely girl. So sweet. So young and innocent. You would never know she was a married woman, would you? She's only twenty and has a lovely kiddie and another on the way. How lovely," she says, as I take a sip of my sherry. "A virgin bride."

I almost cough up a lung.

"That's a word that I wouldn't have ever associated with Jace!" I guffaw.

Looking at me oddly, she continues. "You do know that she's very fond of you, don't you, darling? The way that she gazes at you is borderline inappropriate at times. I wouldn't have thought she was married, you know? I would have thought that she wanted to go out with you, with the way she stares at you with those big eyes of hers. Is she in love with you? What did you say they did for a living again?"

"I didn't." I say, flatly.

"Oh," she says, frowning, "So what do they do?"

"They run workshops." I say, putting the presents down and sitting down as she hands me a plate piled high with her nightmarish culinary creations.

"What in?" she asks, around a masticated mouthful of mince pie, yoghurt and sherry. I feel sick just watching her and push my plate away. At this rate, I will be Cambridge's only anorexic oars man in history.

"Sex." I state.

"I beg your pardon?" she asks, scowling.

"Sex."

"What do you mean, sex? Oh, I see! You're teasing me! Now, please do be serious, Ned! What do they do for a living?" she asks, digging me hard on the back of my hand.

"Sex. They give workshops in sex therapy and erotic origami," I say, sipping the sherry, reluctantly, but I need something to remove the sickly taste of her mince pies.

"Oh, that's very interesting; I didn't know that… hmmm... I must email her and see if Torqi and I could sign up for one. I'm a little concerned that his dinky isn't working properly. Do you know something? No matter how many times I tug it these days, it still stays floppy and I can't shove it inside. Maybe they could help him?" she asks, sounding hopeful. "He was very taken with you, Neddy; he talks about you all the time. He says he has a ticket for you for the Scotland v Argentina match at Murreyfield; do you want to go with him? Maybe you could talk to him about our little problem?"

"No. No, I don't have time to go with him, thanks. And remember, I support England, not Scotland, but thank him for the kind offer anyway." I say, trying not to laugh.

"Oh," she says, looking wounded.

"You know, I'm sure that someone in their commune could help you both," I say, refusing her offer of any more refreshments. "But it's quite full on over there, you know? It isn't for the faint of heart, Clarissa. They have sex all over the place, with everyone. You do know what I'm getting at don't you?"

"Um… you mean couples?" she says, innocently.

"Well, some of them are couples… but they all swap as well, Clarissa. You will observe men with men, women with women, everyone with everyone..."

Torquil is undoubtedly gay, or is, in the very least, bisexual and I don't know how Clarissa would cope with that. After the last time he tried to grope my arse and I'd threatened to break his fingers if he did it again, I was sure of that fact. We'd all been drinking Clarissa's new batch of home-made toffee liqueur and were absolutely paralytic. I went to the toilet and Torquil tried to follow me in. When I locked the door, he just hovered outside until I came out and then grabbed my crotch. I would love to know how he fobbed everyone off about his black eye after I jabbed him in it. Fucker. No one touches me without my permission. He's a slimy little oik and I really wish she would tell him to fuck right off, but she thinks she's in love with him and is convinced that he worships the ground her hand made lingerie drops on.

When I manage to convince her that we've finished tea, she asks if I'd like to see her outfit for the ball. I decline. "Let's leave it for Saturday night, shall we?" I say to her, hugging her tightly. "I want it to be a surprise, okay?"

"Yes, okay, Neddy," she says, "Don't forget your presents. Will you give Jacinta their things or should I post them to her in Ireland?"

"No, I'll take them to Windsor with me." I say, wincing as I pick up the cardigan. "Thanks for this. When the christening is over, I might wear it as a dressing gown. What do you think?"

"Oh I think that's a lovely idea! When you have a lady friend, I'll make her a matching one. Maybe then you won't sleep with the Black Widow any more, Neddy. I wish you wouldn't make love to her. I know you think I don't know that you sleep with her, but I do. I'm not that naïve. She isn't a very nice person, by all accounts, you know?"

"I can assure you, Clarissa," I say, sighing, "I don't make love to Henrietta and I don't sleep when I'm with her. Not at all."

"Really? You aren't sleeping with her? Oh I am glad! The entire campus thinks you are. What is she doing with you then? Teaching you how to play chess? Scrabble? I don't know what you do together, but whatever it is must be very physical. Tiddly winks? Well, you look exhausted sometimes. Do you go to the gym together or something? Can I join in?" she asks, looking at me expectantly. "If she isn't in there with you all night, Neddy, why is there so much screaming coming from your room? Are you having nightmares?"

"No, you can't fucking join in and we don't go to the gym, Clarissa." I say, running my fingers through my hair, "And the screams do come from her as she… um… cums…" I say, not knowing how else to explain it to her. "And I promise you that I don't make love to her, I fuck her and she fucks me. And that's that."

"I don't understand. You fuck her? Isn't that the same as making love?" she asks. "Torqi says it is. Is he wrong?"

"I have no idea, Clarissa; all I do know is that there is nothing loving about what we do together. Nothing at all." I finish before I kiss her on the forehead and leave.

Irritated by our conversation and the shitty food, I decide not to go to the library after all, and instead spend the rest of the day and the evening slaving over a hot computer and files of notes before I crash and have an earlier night than planned, alone, thankfully.

….

Getting ready for the ball has been harder work than I thought it would be. Firstly, Clarissa frog marched me into town for a haircut and hot shave, on Saturday morning, and then she insisted on helping me dress.

"You'd better wear some swimming trunks under your kilt, darling," she said, pushing her way into my room wearing nothing but a pair of brown, baggy lace edged knickers and a matching ill-fitting bra.

Shit.

She really doesn't get the concept of nice underwear. She is so pale that she has a bluish tinge to her lumpy thighs and sagging belly. Scowling at the bulge in my jeans, she prods my flaccid cock and shakes her head. "If that thing swings around under the wool of your kilt, you might get friction burns if it gets hard. It is a little large to be allowed to be untethered and as you aren't Scottish, you don't need to be a 'real Scot's man' for the night. Do you?"

"With you two by my side, Clarissa," I huff, "I doubt that having a hard on will be a problem at all."

"That's a lovely thing to say, Neddy, and I'm not surprised you think like that, I know it's hard for you to understand that I'm immune to your charms, but I am. But I'm really not interested in you in that way," she says, sincerely, "I'm spoken for and I love my Torqi."

Shit. Sarcasm is totally lost on her.

"I didn't mean it like that, Clarissa," I sigh as I begin rummaging about in my chest of drawers. Finding what I was looking for, I pull out a pair of much too tight Speedo's. "Turn around and let me put these on," I huff as I turn around and try not to laugh at her. She has pale pink, tight sponge rollers in her fine hair and a thick, sticky looking, thick orange crap all over her face.

"What's that shit for?" I ask her, frowning as I point to her cheek.

"It's my beautifying regimen, Ned, don't be such a grump. Not everyone is as naturally pretty as you," she says.

"I don't want to get undressed in front of you, Clarissa, you're my friend, it's not right." I say, holding on to the belt loops of my jeans to stop her yanking them down. "I don't want to watch you getting changed, in fact, I wish you wouldn't come in here wearing your knickers, it's just wrong on every level." I huff.

"I bet you see the Black Widow in her pants and bra all the time when you fuck her, don't you?"

I'm not telling her, but that's about the only thing she could be seen out in public wearing. I doubt Clarissa would have any idea what a strap on is, but it really isn't something that Henrietta could wear in polite society, but she wears it fucking well and wields it even better.

She even gets me to wear it now so that I can penetrate her vaginally and anally at the same time. This is something I've never done before and I fucking love it and so does she. When we did this last night, she came so many times that I thought she was going to faint. Her tits took quite a battering because I wasn't gentle as I squeezed them tightly in my hands as I fucked her from behind and then turned her around and after spitting in her cleavage and fucked her breasts.

"Turn around, Clarissa. Please." I say, flatly.

"Why?" she asks, "I've seen your winkie when I undressed you before, I know its huge and makes Torquil's look terribly inadequate, darling, but I can promise you that I'm not embarrassed."

"Okay, whatever," I shrug as I pull my sweatshirt over my head and kick off my converse trainers. "I don't give a shit who sees me naked, Clarissa. I just didn't think this was appropriate, as we're friends and not fuck buddies. But if you're okay with it, then so am I," I say, as I unbutton my Levi's and yank them and my boxer shorts down in one go.

"It is very impressive, Neddy," she says staring at my appendage. "How big does he get when he's hard?" she continues as she dips down and squints at my cock. It feels like it's trying to crawl its way back up inside my body the closer she gets to it. Poor fucker. And getting me started about my balls. I have a horrible feeling that they've shrivelled up to the size of prunes.

"It isn't a '_he,'_ Clarissa," I grumble. "It's a _'cock'_ and it's none of your bloody business how big '_it'_ gets when I have an erection."

"I could measure it for you? If you want to know?" she asks helpfully, "I have my tape measure and pins here with me? Let me give it a few rubs for you, Neddy. I want to see it when it stands up. I bet it's huge! Could I take a picture? I know Torquil would like to see it! He asked me to draw a picture of your todger when I told him that I'd had to undress you."

"What the fucking hell are you on about?" I gasp out. "Don't you dare touch it! And what the fuck do you mean that Torquil got you to draw a picture of my cock? Are you fucking nuts? And don't you even think about coming near me with a fucking tape measure! I don't need it measured and if you expect me to get a hard on when you mention having a box of fucking pins with you, you're sadly mistaken!" I say, as I wriggle my way into the swimming trunks. "Fuck… my cock's going to drop off from lack of blood flow in these…" I huff as I try to shove it inside the tightly restrictive fabric and the discomfort makes me forget what I was saying.

"Yes…" she says, unable to look away. "It does look somewhat snug. Your balls aren't helping. They are very big, Neddy. Is that normal? Torquil's are like little marbles in a saggy sac. Why are yours more like cricket balls, darling?"

Sigh.

"They are normal for me, Clarissa, now will you kindly stop visually dissecting my cock and balls and help me get this skirt on!" I mumble.

"You are going to look divine, darling boy," she coos as she twirls around the room, looking like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, _before_ he's cooked, collecting my things.

Unzipping the bag, I smile as one by one, Clarissa pulls the items out. She's opted for the black tie version of a Highland dress outfit and even I have to admit that it's really nice.

Firstly, I pull on a pair of thick, woollen, tartan socks. I know they'll scratch like fuck but they make my calves look bigger than they are and I turn around and look at them in the mirror, and smile. "I look like I still play rugby!" I chuckle as I flex my legs.

"Yes, yes, you look very handsome, Neddy. Blah de blah de blah. Pretty and handsome and every other adjective in the English language and everyone will look at you tonight. No one will be able to resist you," she says dismissively, as she shoves the shirt over my head.

"Why the fuck is it like a nightshirt?" I ask, pointing to the white fabric that is now sitting mid-thigh, as she pulls it straight and begins to lace up the open V-neck.

"It keeps the course wool of the kilt away from your skin. It also keeps the kilt clean. Remember, when these were first worn, there were no dry cleaners. And this fabric is really course, can you imagine that rubbing you dingle dangle you as you dance?"

"As I dance?" I ask. "I'm expected to _dance?"_

"Of course! I have you marked for the first three dances on my dance card! She squeals.

Ugh.

"Forget that, I'm not dancing!" I say, "No way, Clarissa! What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not dancing with you or Ali or anyone else, come to that! No one mentioned anything about fucking dancing to me!" I say, as I sit on the edge of the bed and lace up my ghillies. "We learned how to dance at Eton. Christ… I fucking hated it. Dancing with a pimple faced idiot two years below you was not frigging fun and I've hated it ever since. I'm not bloody dancing. Christ, it's bad enough that I have to go dressed like a fucking girl, but there's no way in heaven I'm dancing!"

"Oh do stop whinging, Neddy! You really are becoming tiresome tonight! I didn't know you were such a baby," she says, as she wraps the kilt around my waist and fastens it tightly before she secures the open front with a large silver pin, embellished with a pale blue stone that she tells me is an agate from high up in the Cairngorm Mountains, in one corner. Next, she yanks a tight black, silver button waistcoat on and fastens the bottom two buttons, ensuring that the frills on my neck and chest from the attached jabot aren't trapped inside and she then straightens my sleeves and cuffs.

"You're very hairy, aren't you, Ned?" Clarissa asks. "That's a sign of lots of oestrogen, you know?" she says, nodding her head and looking very proud of her superior, wrong, knowledge. "That's why your winkie is so huge. I studied physics at school. I know all about human anatomy."

"I fucking hope it isn't…" I mutter. "I don't want to develop a pair of tits…"

"What do you mean?" she scowls, tugging a tuft of my chest hair. "You don't have boobs. You have manly pectorals."

"I have a lot of testosterone, Clarissa," I sigh, "Not oestrogen. You have oestrogen and progesterone. I have the testosterone. And if you learned all about human anatomy in physics, what did you learn in biology?"

"I learned all about the periodic table in biology, silly boy. Anyway, they're all vitamins and it's all the same in the end, isn't it?" she says, sighing.

"How much more is there?" I moan, ignoring her stupidity, as she wraps a thick black leather belt with an attached dirk around my waist. "Is this even fucking legal?" I ask, looking at the sword just as she shoves the Sghian dubh down one of my socks, before she ties a black leather and silver metal sporran over the top of the belt.

"Oh, for goodness sake, Neddy! Shut up!" she says as she drops to her knees and attaches bright red silk flashes underneath the fold over cuff of my socks. "There, done," she says as she hands me a hair brush. "Just tidy yourself up and add that nice smelling deodorant that you use and you will be all done. What is it that you use anyway? My Torqi always smells of wet dog, horse and wellingtons, I do wish he'd use body spray like you do."

"It's aftershave, by Chanel, Clarissa," I huff as I snatch the brush from her hands and ignore the black barathea jacket with silver buttons and sort my hair out instead. "And it costs me a fortune. It isn't sodding body spray or bloody deodorant…" I mutter, "I don't know what the fuck you think about sometimes… in fact, I don't think you do sodding well think…"

Stepping back, she holds onto my jacket and smiles at me sweetly. "Gosh, Ned," she says, "You do look pretty tonight."

"Don't say that!" I hiss out at her, "I do not look fucking pretty!" I snap, flouncing across the room. The way the pleats swing at the back actually feels quite nice but I'm glad I'm wearing tight undergarments as it does lift up quite high as I walk.

"Okay, I'm off to beautify and titivate myself," she giggles. "We won't be long. I have the rough basics of beauty, as you know, so it never takes me long to titivate myself, darling boy!"

Nodding, I don't pay much attention, as she dashes off to get ready. Fiddling with my hair, I dab some aftershave on and look at myself in the full length mirror. Grinning, I get my camera out and setting it up on its tripod, I take a picture of myself in my outfit and quickly text it to Carlisle, Katy, Anna, Riley, Douglas, Henrietta and Tom and sit back to wait for the comments.

They come thick and fast but none of them could be repeated in private conversation. Both Tom and Henrietta wanted me to take one of what is under my kilt and I ignore them but it does make me laugh.

A knock on the door drags me from my reverie, and grabbing my jacket, I yell, "I won't be a minute," as I wriggle my way into the jacket and shove the tickets, my wallet, phone and keys into my sporran before I grab the corsage boxes from the fridge. I'd nipped out and ordered them two days ago and picked them up this morning.

Grabbing my sunglasses, yes, poserish I know but I'm not exactly incognito in this fucking outfit—I open the door and my heart sinks.

Alina is wearing something that looks like a red, satin wedding dress, complete with train and masses of frills around the neck, shoulders and hem. She looks like someone has vomited ruffles all over her and I worry that she might spontaneously combust when the fabric rubs together and causes static electricity. Shit.

Her dark hair is pulled up at the sides and twisted with garlands of silk flowers interlaced with the plaiting. She looks like a jumble sale version of Princess Leah and I sigh knowing that we are going to be far from inconspicuous because of our ridiculous looking attire.

And then there's Clarissa.

She has a corset style top that is barely decent and a pair of tiny shorts with a transparent net long skirt over the top, covered in tiny dots. Beneath this, she has knee length lace up doc martin's boots on. The entire outfit is black, unusually and thankfully it isn't one of her normal rainbow fucking concoctions, but the curls she had so carefully tried to make, ensure that her hair looks like some sort of scraggy Goldilocks minus the three bears. To complete this ensemble, she has a string of shocking blue fairy lights attached to a head band that she can turn on and off with the aid of a battery pack hidden inside her bra top. This means, obviously, that she has one tit bigger than the other and they both look more lopsided than ever, but she doesn't seem to be aware of that fact. Her backside hangs out from the much too small and tight shorts and her legs look enormous below them. At least the corset keeps everything else tightly pinned in place and for that I'm eternally grateful.

They both smile at me expectantly, and blush as I look them up and down.

"Are you stunned to silence, Neddy?" Clarissa asks, "Or are you disappointed?"

Swallowing, I shake my head. "Well, ladies," I say, grinning, "I can honestly say that I've never had two lovelier dates. And we will most certainly be the talk of the ball."

They both giggle in an odd high pitched manner but I'm not lying; I've never been on a date before so I'm telling them the absolute truth.

"Come on," I say, tying Ali's mini pink rose corsage around her wrist, "These are for you, I picked them up earlier. I hope they're alright?"

Ali sniffles loudly and wipes her nose across the back of her hand, as I attach a matching floral decoration just above her left breast with a safety pin. Clarissa's flowers are made from various shades of lilac and purple and she smiles and kisses me on the top of my head when I dip down to line up her flowers on her wonky boob.

"You're so kind, Neddy! So kind! I didn't think people did this anymore! That's such a lovely thing to do for us! No one has ever brought me flowers before! I love them!" she says as she pulls on a full length velvet cloak with a hood. It's actually really nice, sadly, what she's wearing underneath, isn't. Ali has a similar cloak in red and I feel that all I need is a top hat and I would look like Jack the Ripper escorting two ladies of the night into the darkness!

"Oh, Edward," Ali coos, "You look so handsome. All the single ladies will want to dance with you tonight. You look lovely."

"I won't be fucking dancing," I huff.

"Neddy is a grumpy poos tonight!" Clarissa sniggers as she kisses me on the cheek. She has so much sticky gloop on her lips that I have to get a tissue and wipe it off my face.

"Fucking hell," I moan. "What the hell have you got on your mouth? Axle grease?"

We walk outside, and I lock my door behind me, before I hold my arms out for them to link their hands with my elbows.

People stop and stare as we walk through the alley ways and cobble stoned streets until we get to the faculty of Economics. The ball is being held in one of the large conference rooms that opens up via sliding doors to double the space. People stop and stare, as they point their fingers and whisper at us, as we walk in. Whoever decorated it has done a wonderful job of it and it looks like a winter wonderland. I used to stand and stare into Selfridge's window when I was a little boy with my nanny, but I was never allowed to go inside and visit Father Christmas. A massive tree sits at the far end and must be twenty feet tall. The entire room looks like a frosted, frozen scene from a fairy tale book, complete with fake ice and snow, and a machine that spews fluffy snowflakes out at the entrance. There are bowers of greenery festooning every wall, shelf, picture and door frame that are hanging with plastic, sparkly icicles and snowflakes. Thousands of miniature white fairy lights twinkle wherever you look and there are drinks fountains, steaming with dry ice adding to the atmosphere.

"Come on, let's leave our coats in the cloak room," I say, ignoring the stares and inappropriately loud whispers. All the other men are wearing tuxedos and the women are wearing skimpy dresses and skirts. Some are full length but the vast majority are cut so short that their knickers show as they move around and I may have to change my evaluation of the boring state of the members of the economics department. They all look pretty good, and I just know that we look like something from a fucking horror film. And don't get me started on the noises coming from Ali's dress as she walks. She looks really uncomfortable and winces with every step she takes.

"Rissy," she whimpers. "Something is stabbing into my side. I think you might have left some of your needles in there."

"I didn't leave needles in there!" she huffs, "I left several pins because it was too loose over one of the darts. Do stop complaining, Alina!"

I'm bloody relieved that she didn't get anywhere near my fucking clothes with her alteration equipment.

As we strip off our outer garments, the room falls silent. "Dear God, Edward," a loud voice barks out, "I thought you were beautiful before, but even I didn't know you could look any better!"

What the fuck?

Turning around, I almost bang into Torquil.

"Torqi!" Clarissa squeals, hurling herself across the room as fast as her feet will allow. She sounds like a wildebeest in full flight as the soles of her flat boots slap against the shiny flooring. "Darling! I didn't know you were coming!"

I had rung him the weekend before and told him that I thought it might be a nice idea if he came to surprise his girlfriend for once. At least he listened to me and took my advice, though, to be honest the way he's staring at me makes me think that it might not just be Clarissa he's come to visit…

Torquil is wearing tartan trews and a red velvet waistcoat over a white frilly shirt, and frankly, he looks like a total and utter twat. He stares at me as Clarissa wraps herself around him.

"Good to see you again, Torquil," I lie, "I'll leave you all to it," I say, grinning as the Black Widow walks through the door and brushes off the fake snow, and the doorman who wants to see her ticket. "I believe I have a prior engagement…"

"I don't need a ticket, my good man!" she bellows out. "I have a date, now move out of my way before I fucking move you!" she finishes, brushing the poor man out of her way.

She looks fucking brilliant and I can't help the sense of relief that washes over me as I look her over. Her voluptuous curves are tightly encased in a full length black satin dress that is split up the front, almost to her crotch. The top is skin tight and her large, beautiful breasts are spilling over the enticingly. The dress is strapless and she has long, black satin gloves all the way up to her armpits. I wonder briefly what they'll feel like as she strokes my erection. She's wearing black stockings—I can see the edge of them— and sky high shoes and in all honesty, she looks like sex on legs.

For the first time all day, my cock wakes up, yawns and starts to try to fight its way to stand up in the cruelty of its confinement to see what's going on.

"Mr Cullen…" she drawls as she walks towards me. "Well… well… well…" she continues looking me up and down. "You look absolutely amazing, darling boy… good enough to eat in fact… and wearing a skirt I see? That will make access lovely and easy…"

"Is that so?" I laugh, sipping my glass of champagne.

"Now, don't be coy," she says, grinning, "You know you love it when I eat you… almost as much as when you eat me out… but, tell me something… are you a _real _Scot's man? Are you naked beneath that kilt?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I ask her, grinning as I cock my head to the side.

"I do want to know…" she whispers, as she presses her body against me. "I want to know right now…"

"You do know that everyone will know for certain that we're fucking now, don't you?" I say, laughing as she wraps an arm around my waist.

"Of course! They all suspected it though, didn't they?" she chuckles.

"Can you excuse me please, I need to speak to Clarissa for a moment," I say, as I look at Clarissa's frowning, concerned face. "I'll get you some champagne on my way back," I finish, turning quickly, ensuring that my kilt swirls, as I dash into the toilets.

"Gosh…" a girl says as I pass her. "You look amazing, Edward."

I have no idea who she is but I grin at her and say, "Thanks," as I just keep walking. This outfit was certainly the right choice after all.

Slamming the cubicle door, I yank off my ridiculous swimming trunks and bin them. If Henrietta wants a true Scot's English man, that's what she's going to have. Laughing to myself, I pee and pull the chain as my cock starts to push its way upwards beneath the heavy fabric, sensing that Henrietta and her pussy are nearby.

"Neddy, do be careful," Torquil says as I leave the cubicle, "People are talking about you and the Black Widow out there. Clarissa is worried about you and asked me to come and find you and try to persuade you to be Ali's date and to stay by our side. It won't look good to the rest of your lecturers or class mates if you are seen to be fraternising with staff. Come with me, we'll look after you, okay?"

"Thank you all for your concern," I say haughtily, because I really don't like him, not at all. "But I'm absolutely fine. And don't touch me, or I'll blacken your other eye," I finish as I pull my arm away.

Shoving passed him; I walk back across the room. I wave to Clarissa as I grab two flutes of champagne before I return to Henrietta's side. "Here you are," I say, handing her a glass. "Drink that in two gulps because I want to fuck you. Now, are you ready to find out what I'm wearing under my skirt?" I ask her, grinning as I pull her towards the exit. "There's an alleyway close by and I want you to suck my cock. Are you coming?"

"I thought you'd never ask…" she chuckles before she downs her drink in one.

….

The weekend passes in a blur of pretty much none stop sex and by the Monday morning, I'm so fucking knackered that I look like I've been hit by a train. In between fucking, I'd managed to get quite a lot of work done as we replenished our energy with some of Henrietta's delicious cooking, but as I stagger back to my rooms, I suddenly realise that I haven't ordered any presents yet.

Dashing inside, I sigh when I pick up a note off my floor.

"_Neddy. I'm worried about you. Everyone was talking about you and laughing that you'd dumped me for the Black Widow. I was there with Torquil but I still feel quite upset that you left us. Please ring me when you can. C x"_

I can't deal with that right now, I have far too much to do, so, sadly, Clarissa and her wounded ego will just have to wait for a little while.

Sitting at my computer, I quickly log on to Harrod's website and order presents for everyone. I buy Clarissa a new sewing machine, one that is all singing and all dancing and far better than the old treddle, foot powered one she uses now. Added to that, there's a whole bundle full of bits and pieces for her to use with it and a gift voucher for Liberty's haberdashery department. I buy Ali a new basket and lights for her bike as well as fluttery ribbons that fit on her handlebars and a crash helmet, gloves and elbow and knee pads, because she keeps falling off it.

I decide to buy a year's subscription to a wine and chocolate club for John and his family, a weekend in Paris for Carlisle and Katy, a visit to a winery in the south of Spain for Charlotte, Garrett, Peter and Esme, a new guitar for Jasper, a briefcase for Emmett and a handbag from some ridiculously expensive Parisian designer for Rosalie. I buy Alice, whom I haven't spoken to in ages, because she's much too busy with her dominatrix to speak to any of us—she is actually training to be a twenty four seven slave—a voucher for a sex shop in Covent Garden that specialises in lesbian play toys and equipment.

After umming and ahing, I decide that, as she is still family—well—sort of—I send the Muswell Hillbilly a case of vodka and a bag of lemons. After their kindness to me, I buy Ted and Jane a trip for lunch on the Orient Express and Riley and Jacinta a whole selection of seeds and plants for their garden and orchard.

Smiling to myself as I look through a department I've never looked in before, I buy Mistral far too many Fischer Price toys and fucking ridiculously expensive baby clothes, and finally I buy Annabelle a pair of the highest and most over-priced leather boots I've ever seen from Gucci and despite the amount of money I have languishing in the bank, even I blanche at their cost. Paying for it all, I click the button to have everything gift wrapped and delivered and then jump in the shower and get ready for my lecture with Henrietta.

…..

It isn't a comfortable week to be honest. Everyone is talking about me wherever I go, and most of the girls are fascinated, and disgusted, in equal measure, that I'm very obviously fucking my lecturer. The males in my year think its great and are hugely jealous, and I seem to have gone up several notches with my rowing compatriots.

They think I'm great for handling someone as notorious as Henrietta and they all laugh when I strip off to have a shower and they see the deeply gouged scratches and bite marks all over my back and arse. They all stopped laughing though, because this was the first time they had seen the size of my cock.

…

Friday finally arrives and I decide to risk driving back to London, despite how knackered I am. Annabelle frowns at my fading wounds and bruises when I strip off in front her, but says nothing as she lays me down on my floor and smears much too hot wax over the crack of my arse.

I'm convinced she's hurting me more than is necessary and doing it on purpose, but I let it go and say nothing to her other than general chit chat. After we have a sandwich and I shave, we head off to the Hale's for the weekend, making sure that we don't touch in any way, not even our hands.

"Are you happy not to see us for two weeks at a time, Eddie?" she asks, scowling at me. "I don't understand it. Not at all. I don't think I could be apart from my Master and Mistress for longer than three days at a stretch any more. I'd miss them far too much and I miss you too. Are you happier this way? Really?"

"Yes, actually, I am. I need this time to settle into university life, Anna," I say, as I look to the side as we cross the road. "I don't need them, or being submissive, as much as you do. I have way too many other things to occupy me at the moment."

"What you really mean, Edward," she says, looking at me sadly, "Is that you want to have free time to fuck around. Aren't we enough for you now?"

"It isn't like that but if you want me to be honest," I say, "Then no, it isn't enough for me. I need freedom. I've always had freedom in as much as I didn't have to ask anyone's permission to fuck whom I wanted before, and I find that limit far too restricting. I don't have a problem with being reasonably obedient on our weekends together, but I need the rest of my time to be with other friends and spread my wings."

"I don't like it," she says going to hold my hand. "And don't you mean you want to make others' spread their legs, rather than you spreading your wings? You're a slut, Eddie. You really are. You'll shag Tom next and get him sacked."

Pulling away from her, I sigh. "You don't have to like it, Annabelle. It's my life and my choice. You have to do what Katy and Carlisle have done, albeit reluctantly. You just accept it and let me be. And who I do, or don't shag, now or in the future, has fuck all to do with you, or them. Okay?"

"Katy might say she's alright with you being away from us, Eddie, but she isn't really and Carlisle is devastated. Utterly bereft. You know, he's fond of me but he's in love with you and you can't even see it. He cancelled last weekend and locked himself away in his study whilst Katy taught me how to darn socks. Are you proud of what you've done to him?"

"Shut up, Annabelle," I sigh. "I like them and I'm fond of them but I don't love them. I most certainly don't want my whole life to revolve around them or this kind of lifestyle at this point in time. So for now, let's just leave it and see how our first weekend with my new changes pans out, without causing a drama, before we even get to their sodding house. Okay?"

She nods, but for the rest of the journey, she doesn't speak and looks tight lipped.

Actually, despite Annabelle's worries and moans, the night goes pretty well. They both grill me about who I've been fucking when I'm not with them, but I don't respond other than to tell them that I have no serious attachment to anyone, and that I've been working out and studying in the library more than anything else. It isn't a lie. I have been working out for hours every day, now that I've joined the rowing team, but what I don't tell them is that fucking Henrietta is even more exhausting than spending two or three hours on the river with the boys.

Anyway, after supper, we unpack and head downstairs to go the dungeon. They say nothing when I remove my clothing, and I know my back, shoulders and arse are a mess from Henrietta, so they have to have seen the visible signs that I've certainly not been celibate since our last encounter.

Carlisle says nothing to me as he fucks me whilst I eat Annabelle out, other than to forbid me from cumming, and instead tells me to fuck his wife in any way that she wants me to. He touches my scratches often and even scrapes his own nails down Henrietta's well-worn path, making me hiss and arch in pain as my skin opens again.

After kissing me so passionately that I can hardly breathe, Katy tells me how much she's missed me before she bends over the table and tells me to fuck her from behind. In the brief amount of time I've know them, I've never seen her like this. Not even with her husband. She's behaving very oddly, and is more like a lover than a dominatrix as she reaches behind me and strokes my balls. "Do it, boy…" she moans, as she wiggles her bum in the air.

Standing behind her, I slide my fingers along her sweat streaked spine but do nothing else as I look her up and down whilst deciding what I'm going to do next.

We're well matched height wise so this would never be a difficult thing for me to do, but I'm surprised that she wants this and doesn't want to use any of her impact toys on me. She used a couple on my genitals earlier, as Carlisle had fucked my arse, but as yet, she hasn't touched my back or shoulders.

"Do it, Edward… do it… fuck me… now… we've missed you… I've missed you… do it… I want you to do this… please… fuck me… do whatever you want… touch me…" she moans, arching her back seductively.

She's never been like this with me before but I like it and after I push my fingers into her hair, I twist her head to the side sharply, I kiss her back and lick down her spine before I bite her neck and shoulders, I do as I'm told.

"Yes, Mistress…" I say as I kick her feet apart and shove two fingers into her and move them slowly but firmly in and out of her sopping wet body, curling and rotating them as I do so.

"Oh God…" she groans as she arches her backside upwards. "More…"

Nodding, I stare at Carlisle as I fuck her quickly with my fingers until she shudders and squeals through her orgasm.

"Fuck her…" he says to me, nodding. "Fuck her properly now… Annabelle, put a condom on him… make it good for him too… use your mouth… and your fingers…"

Turning around, I lean against Katy's sweat covered backside and smile as Anna kneels in front of me and cups my balls before she takes a long languid lick of the head of my cock.

"Oh…" I groan as she sucks me into her mouth and massages the spot just behind my balls and presses firmly. "Shiiiiitttt…"

She gives the best blow jobs I've ever had and as she slides one finger into my still slick backside, I whimper loudly and shove my cock even further into her mouth, making her gag and retch. It feels fucking brilliant.

"Don't make him cum, Anna," Carlisle says, "He belongs to his mistress tonight. Roll the condom on him and do it now."

Sitting back on her haunches, she holds my cock in one hand and slowly places the extra-large rubber on to it, before she uses both hands to roll it all the way down.

"Now fuck my wife…" he says, staring at me intently as she strokes his cock, that's rock hard again.

Smiling to him, I turn around, press my hands on Katy's shoulder blades and thrust inside her in one hard movement.

"Holy fuck…" she mutters as she presses back against me. "So fucking big, Edward! So fucking big… no one's ever filled me like this… this… before… oh that's so good… so fucking good…" she mumbles, as I jerk against her so hard that my balls slap against her body loudly.

"Is this… hard… enough?" I ask breathlessly. "Is it?"

"No!" she gasps out, "Harder, Edward… harder…"

"_You asked for it…"_ I hiss out as I increase the depth, power and force of my thrusts into my dominatrix's willing body.

I hear Annabelle gasp as I kick Katy's feet further apart and move faster as I grab her hip and squeeze tightly. Pounding into Katy from behind, I clench my teeth and ignore the aching burn in my upper thighs and buttocks. She groans and stretches her arms out in front of her as she hangs onto the table firmly. "Harder, boy… harder…"

"You want it harder do you? Huh? Really, Mistress Katy? Are you sure about that?" I growl as I grab her long pony tail and twist it around my wrist before I jerk her head backwards with one hand, twisting it to the side so that she's forced to look at me, and squeeze her breast painfully hard with the other one. "TELL ME!"

"God… yes… Edward… harder…" she pants as I slam into her so hard, that the table moves a little with every thrust. "Please… God that… that… that hurts…" she moans as her legs bash off the metal edging and the head of my cock thumps against her cervix. "More… do it harder… more… please… oh… God…"

"Harder?" I ask as I squeeze her breast firmly. "More?"

"Yes…" she groans.

"Fucking arch your body then! Press back against me and don't you fucking dare cum until I tell you to!" I bark out as I crack her painfully hard on the left arse cheek, making her whimper and jerk against me. "Did you hear me, Katy?" I continue. "Your orgasms belong to me tonight and I told you to arch your fucking back! Do it! Make me feel good and do it now!" I yell out as I pull my hand back and hit her upper thigh so hard that my hand burns and feels like it's on fire. It feels absolutely marvellous and as I fight the tingling in my balls and clenching of my buttocks, as my body gets ready to explode, a cough brings me back to consciousness.

"Um… Edward…" Carlisle says, putting his hands on the top of each buttock and holding me still. "I really think you and I need to have a little chat about your submission… make my wife cum, but don't you dare orgasm. Make her cum, pull out, discard the condom, wash your dick, sanitise your hands and come upstairs to my study. This isn't working. We need to talk, and we need to talk right fucking now."

…

**This is the translation of Edward's French phrase. Remember, he is a very naughty boy…**

"_**Je veux vous étaler par terre et vous mange hors comme si vous êtes une pêche mûre, commençant à vos orteils et finissant avec vos lèvres—les deux séries—avant que je vous baise dur et rapide avec mes doigts, ma langue et mon coq dans chaque orifice et fait vous planer sur le bord jusqu'à ce que je vous permettez de viens. Et si vous venez avant que je vous dis à, je vous fesserai et vous lie au lit si solidement que vous ne pouvez pas vous déplacer et pouvez vous partir insatisfait comme je viens partout dans votre visage." **_

**and this means****…**

"_**I want to spread you out on the floor and eat you as if you're a ripe peach, starting at your toes and finishing with your lips—both sets—before I fuck you hard and fast with my fingers, my tongue and my cock in every orifice and make you hover on the brink until I let you cum. And if you cum before I tell you to, I will spank you and tie you to the bed so tightly that you can't move and leave you unsatisfied as I cum all over your face."**_

**Her responses are a little more to the point… and forgive me for using the one word I've never verbalised but it seemed right for someone as voraciously predatory as Henrietta and in all honesty, I blame Katy's influence, she is an old h00r.**

"_**Manger mon cunt, maintenant!" or "Me Donner votre coq!" or **__**"Asseyez-vous ! Larlissez-moi monter votre coq!" or "BAISEZ-MOI DUR ET BAISEZ-MOI MAINTENANT!" or "Baise-moi! Baiser ma chatte! Baise ma bouche! Baise mon cul! Juste foutue baise-moi!"**_

**and these mean****…**

"**Eat my cunt, now!" or "Give me your cock!" or "Sit down! I want to ride your cock!" or "Fuck me hard and fuck me now!" or "Fuck me! Fuck my cunt! Fuck my mouth! Fuck my arse! Just fucking fuck me!"**

**I hope this is right; I used an electronic translator as I don't speak much French! If it's rubbish, let me know in a pm, please, Ms Shoval!**

…

**Archaically, a '**_**quaigh' **_**is a special kind of shallow two-handled drinking cup or bowl in Scotland. It derives from the Scottish Gaelic cuach meaning a cup and because I grew up in the Highlands of Scotland, and because I now have a Mr McAvoy obsession, I thought I would like to add a wee touch of home!**

…

**So there you have it. However cold and arrogant Edward seems, there are the odd hints of the soft inside that holds his emotions still being there. He has so many repressed issues, especially those regarding his mother and however damaged he is, I love my boy. He is naughty and is a really bad submissive but he will be a far better dominant! More soon and if you liked this, please leave us a wee smooch!**

…**.…..**

**For Information**

***The University boat race is held every March and is between Oxford and Cambridge. Before they are allowed to compete in this major event, they have to have taken part in the 'B' team race, and the boats are called 'Goldie' (Cambridge) and 'Isis' (Oxford). Cambridge wears a lovely pale duck egg blue and Oxford wears navy blue. It's a hugely prestigious race and many of the rowers are actually Olympic athletes from all over the world. It's one of the longest, and toughest, races in the world. Have a look on YouTube. I adore it. I always vote for Cambridge, hence my boy going there, and my mother always supported Oxford as she went to school there!**


	15. Chapter 15

**OKAY. NOW THE CONFUSING SHIT.**

**THIS CHAPTER IS CHAPTER 15 ON HERE BUT WILL BE CHAPTER 14 ON TWCS. I HAVE REMOVED THE ORIGINAL ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE BEGINNING! OKAY?**

…**.**

**WE ARE ALSO ON TWCS NOW. ISS WILL NO LONGER BE POSTED ON AND THERE WILL BE ONE MORE CHAPTER OF ECSTD ON BEFORE I YANK IT AND PUT IN TWCS ONLY. THEY DON'T DESERVE MY STORIES AFTER PULLING ISS FOUR TIMES!**

…**..**

**LESLIE E – FF BLOCK EMAIL AND BLOG ADDRESSES SO I COULDN'T RESPOND**

…**..**

**Hello!**

**I'm so pleased most of you like my damaged boy's pov. He really is very special to me and I pour much more of myself into his side of things than I do into hers for some reason. Only one of you moaned a little that it was too long, well, sorry, but I'm a wordy cow and most of you love the longer chapters so that's that.**

**I'm chuffed to little mint balls that you love my daft Clarissa. She's silly, highly inappropriate and yes, in many ways, she's like a young Mrs Collins. I guess that's why Edward finds her entertaining rather than irritating when he meets her in Bella's flat! I suppose her awful cooking also sets his stomach up for Renee's culinary disasters… oops… masterpieces… later on too!**

**I don't own Twilight, the lovely Stephanie Meyer does. I do, however, own all original characters and the plot and story lines in both this and ISS. Please don't translate my story; my humour really doesn't work in other languages, well… I don't think it does.**

**Thank you to Rima2000 and Laura Mars for their love, care and support in the good times and the bad. Hugs girls. Thanks to my beloved Facebook wifey, Katy for all her love and laughs, you are the light of my life sweetie, and I thank the day we were introduced online.**

**This story is rated MA/NC17 for its strong sexual content. It contains slash, femme slash and moderate sexual violence so you've been warned.**

**I expected more comments on his time with Henrietta and the language used but few did and I'm pleased that you all accepted his needs and wants.**

**Remember, should we disappear on TWCS, which is highly unlikely, I know, come and play in the Harpies Haven on Facebook. You will get to see the faces I envisage when I'm writing but I warn you, just like this, it isn't for the faint of heart and if you are easily offended by very graphic sexual images, don't ask to join or you may need blood pressure medication.**

**Hugs.**

**The girls, who are very active in my mind today, and I, proudly present:**

**BY THE WAY**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

_**Standing in line**_

_**To see the show tonight**__**  
**__**And there's a light on**__**  
**__**Heavy glow**__**  
**__**By the way I tried to say**__**  
**__**I'd be there, waiting for**__**  
**__**Dani the girl**__**  
**__**Is singing songs to me**__**  
**__**Beneath the marquee, of her soul**__****_

_**Steak knife card shark**__**  
**__**Con job boot cut**__****_

_**Skin that flick**__**  
**__**She's such a little DJ**__**  
**__**Get there quick**__**  
**__**By street but not the freeway**__**  
**__**Turn that trick**__**  
**__**To make a little leeway**__**  
**__**Beat that nic**__**  
**__**But not the way that we play**__****_

_**Dog town blood bath**__**  
**__**Rib cage soft tail**__****_

_**Black jack dope dick**__**  
**__**Pawn shop quick pick**_

…**.**

**Previously**

"**You want it harder do you? Huh? Really, Mistress Katy? Are you sure about that?" I growl as I grab her long pony tail and twist it around my wrist before I jerk her head backwards with one hand, twisting it to the side so that she's forced to look at me, and squeeze her breast painfully hard with the other one. "TELL ME!"**

"**God… yes… Edward… harder…" she pants as I slam into her so hard, that the table moves a little with every thrust. "Please… God that… that… that hurts…" she moans as her legs bash off the metal edging. "More… do it harder… more… please… oh… God…"**

"**Harder?" I ask as I squeeze her hip tightly. "More?"**

"**Yes…"**

"**Fucking arch your back, press back against me and don't you fucking dare cum until I tell you to!" I bark out as I crack her painfully hard on the left arse cheek, making her whimper and jerk against me. "Did you hear me, Katy?" I continue. "I told you to arch your fucking back! Do it! Make me feel good and do it now!" I yell out as I pull my hand back and hit her upper thigh so hard that my hand burns and feels like it's on fire. It feels absolutely marvellous and as I fight the tingling in my balls and clenching of my buttocks as my body gets ready to explode, a cough brings me back to consciousness.**

"**Um… Edward…" Carlisle says, putting his hands on the top of each buttock and holding me still. "I really think you and I need to have a little chat about your submission… make my wife cum, but don't you dare orgasm, Edward. Make her cum, pull out, discard the condom, sanitise your hands and come upstairs to my study. This isn't working. We need to talk and we need to talk right fucking now."**

…**..**

How my cock doesn't shrivel to the size of a mini chipolata as he speaks to me like that, I really don't know. But it certainly cools my ardour and all of a sudden, I don't need to fight to hold my orgasm back any longer.

"Come on, Edward!" Carlisle continues, sounding more and more irate. "Satisfy your mistress and make her cum, NOW!"

Bollocks.

Unwilling to either let Katy down or show any sign of failing, I grit my teeth and change my angle, all the while digging my fingers into her hips. I keep right on thrusting as soon as Carlisle lets go of me but I don't look at any of them, I just do as he tells me and clench my teeth willing my cock to stay hard. I've never felt my dick soften when it was within sniffing distance of a wet, willing pussy before, but tonight could prove to be a bloody exception to that generalised rule, as I suddenly seem to lose all sensation from my waist down.

Swallowing loudly and staring at the swan shaped tattoo on Katy's shoulder, I scrape my short nails down her damp skin in the way I know she likes. I then change the angle of my movement slightly again, making her whimper and groan as the head of my cock slides up and down over her g-spot.

She shudders under my ministrations but still doesn't cum and as I dig my fingers into her left tit, I thrust harder. Still nothing happens. Carlisle seems to have really killed the mood and however much I concentrate in a bid to try and stay hard, I can feel myself softening slightly and am shocked by what's happening to me.

I really don't like this new feeling. This equates a feeling of weakness and failure to me. So I decide to continue in the same vein as before, trying to ignore the icy trickle of dread that's slipping down my spine, as Carlisle stomps around us. His glare from behind me is almost unbearable and I just want to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. Having always been sexually voracious and insatiable, I never expected sex to feel like a chore, but tonight it does.

Grabbing both her nipples, I twist them painfully hard making her jerk upwards and in response, I bit the side of her neck so hard, I think I might have drawn blood. "Fucking cum, Katy! Fucking cum all over my cock, NOW!" I bark out, well aware that this could be the last time I set foot in their play room.

In response to both the pain and my shouted demands, Katy cums quite quickly, thrashing and jerking beneath me as she begs and pleads with me to bite her again and yank her hair harder. I oblige somewhat half-heartedly as I tighten my grip on her waist length hair, wrapping it around my fist and wrist and tug it backwards sharply. She squeals and shudders and keeps yelping for more. I don't really care whether she's enjoying herself or not anymore, and for the first time ever, fucking someone feels like a laborious challenge rather than a pleasure.

As Katy pants and her body heaves beneath me, Carlisle grabs my hair and yanks me away from her, separating us.

"Excellent job done, as usual, boy," he says, as he pulls so hard, I'm sure I'm going to have a bald spot the next time I look in the mirror. My cock softens despite the fact that I haven't cum and it isn't a nice feeling to be honest. My balls feel heavy and they ache as they swing due to the way that Carlisle jerks me backwards. As I almost fall over with the strength he is using to pull me around, I lock eyes with Annabelle. Her eyes widen as she looks me up and down and sees the effect Carlisle's rage is having on me.

"Have you had enough of his body, Katy?" Carlisle snaps. He digs his fingers so tightly into my arm just above my elbow that I yelp and unwittingly yank my arm away, wincing before he rips the slimy condom from my soft cock, flinging it with a soft splat onto the floor, and I step backwards. "Don't you dare pull away from me, boy! I'm tired of your fucking insubordination!"

Shit. I've never heard him so angry before. Even when he caught Anna and me groping outside his house, he was like a meek and mild pussycat compared to now.

"Answer me, woman!" he yells at his wife and all three of us gasp. I've never heard him raise his voice to her before and by the murderous look on her face, she hasn't heard it very often either.

"Yes… I have… Carlisle. For… for now… for now…" she pants out, pushing herself up on her elbows as she glowers at him. "But… but we… will talk… about this… later… okay? I'm… I'm… not… impressed… by your… your attitude… _darling…_"

Oh dear.

"Whatever you like, _Kathryn_," he says, icily. "I'm sure you'll be right. You usually fucking are."

"Oh… Carlisle… you just… wait…" she pants out in response.

Kathryn? Shit. That sounds like they're going to be having a major fight later on. What the fuck is his problem?

"Follow me now, Edward! Don't dawdle! Hurry up, we have to talk and we need to talk right now!" he demands. I don't argue with him, I just walk slowly behind him, lowering my head as I do so.

I've never seen my cock look so small and shrivelled and my heart pounds in my chest. For the first time in my life, I realise that I've pushed my luck just a little bit too far this time and that my newly found cocky arrogance might just have come to bite me on the arse.

We walk up the stone stairs in silence. At some point, Carlisle has put on a pair of boxer shorts, I don't know when but he has and I watch as the tight white fabric moves over his firm, muscular arse cheeks. Usually this would be enough to make my cock rock hard as my nether regions remember how it feels to be buried deep between them.

But not today.

Nope.

Today my cock hangs straight down, swinging like a piece of dead wood, heavy and limp.

Obviously, I'm still bare bollock naked, apart from the gold coloured shackles that Katy had clamped around my upper arms because she wanted to suspend me from the ceiling. She'd changed her mind after I'd gone down on her, but hadn't bothered to remove them saying that Carlisle could tie me up and use my body when she was finished with me. She said I looked like a slave boy from ancient history and that she might make me a thong and some sort of ankle shackles and a head dress to go with it to wear for the next party. I winced when she said that because I hoped that she wasn't going to make me wear a ring of bloody flowers on my head, but I guess anything is better than the quills of those feathers and the way they dug into my balls as I walked. My back looked like a pin cushion when I had taken the bloody wings off.

Surprisingly, instead of stopping on the group floor, Carlisle continues climbing upwards until we reach the second floor, the level below my room. For a brief moment, I think he's going to make me get dressed before he throws me out of their home for good.

"In here…" he says, more quietly now as he pushes open a door.

We enter a room I've never been inside before. Carlisle's office.

It's quite a large room and must have been a double bedroom at one time. There are two large windows with dark wooden venetian blinds covering them. The floor is a lighter wood and the furniture is all made of a rich, aged oak. A large desk sits beneath the windows and is piled high with folders, files and trays of loose papers. A state of the art desk top computer sits in the middle of it and two of the walls are filled with shelves of leather bound books, medical journals, medical records and more folders.

"Sit down!" he demands, pointing to a hard, bare wooden chair that's beside his padded mahogany brown leather one. "Sit there. Do it now, and don't fucking move!" he continues as he leaves the room. Returning a couple of moments later, he's covered his sweaty body with a dark charcoal grey towelling robe and is belting it tightly as I look up at him.

"And once more you haven't obeyed my order, Edward?" he says, sounding slightly shocked. "DID I, OR DID I NOT, TELL YOU TO FUCKING WELL SIT DOWN?" he yells.

"Um… well… I… er…" I begin.

"Did I tell you that you're free to speak, Edward?" he asks, coldly. "Well? Did I say that you were to respond to me, boy? DID I?"

Swallowing loudly, I look down and keep looking down and I don't respond in any way other than to sit down in the chair. It feels cold and hard against my sweaty and flushed skin. Katy had used a riding crop on me for the first time tonight and although it had been erotic and enjoyable at the time, my skin now feels swollen and stings because I haven't yet had any after care. I wasn't overly keen on the way she slapped the small flared piece of leather against my bollocks. But I was pretty lost in the delicious sensation of it all at the time and went with it because the way my balls instinctively pulled up in self-preservation felt absolutely amazing as I fought to control my orgasm.

Sighing, I realise that sitting on hard wood might not be such a great idea now but sit I do. And even manage to do it without making a sound, or even squirming.

"Is that seat uncomfortable on your balls and arse, Edward?" Carlisle asks, with more than a hint of mirth in his voice. When I don't look up, he continues. "I do hope so. It might make you focus somewhat on what your Master is trying to say to you. Don't you agree?"

I don't respond.

"Well, I'm glad to see that you can manage to stick to my orders once in a while, boy," he says, sounding weary. "Right," he sighs, handing me a glass of water and two small tablets, "take these. They will help with the pain and I promise you, your balls will feel like they've been through a mangle tomorrow morning. I'm fucking angry with you right now, but I'm not cruel enough to let you suffer any more than is necessary. Well, not physically, anyway. Katy wasn't nice to you tonight, not nice at all, but that serves you right for turning her on to that level. Even I back away when she gets like that. You're lucky she didn't try to bite your balls. The last time she did that to me, I had to sit on ice for several days afterwards and thought she'd damaged me permanently."

Sipping the water, I hold the tablets in my hand, and don't take them. I don't like pills. I hardly drink alcohol anymore and I've even stopped smoking dope and popping the odd E when I'm out with my rowing friends. I need to have a totally clean bill, criminal record wise, with the law as my future career. Also, if I want to continue improving my physical being, I can't keep drinking or taking drugs of any description because I need to be as healthy, and as stimulant free, as possible.

"Take the fucking tablets, Edward," Carlisle says, sighing once more. When I ignore this and just keep drinking the water, he shakes his head. "Okay. Have it your way, and just suffer. I can't force you to take them. I'm guessing that even if I demand that you take them, you would either refuse to do that, or safe word. So, if you don't want my help, wallow in your pain and just put them on the desk."

I do as he says and place them on the leather top of his desk and I'm aware of the creaking of the stairs as Annabelle walks up to our room.

"Okay, you now have permission to speak to me, Edward. Politely and respectfully remember. I want to know exactly what the fuck is going on with you! You either want to be my submissive and follow my orders, without question, or we end our agreement tonight. I'm tired of this roller coaster of emotions that seems to be going on between us. So, what's it to be?" he asks.

Looking up at him, I blink at the expression on his face. His eyes are moist and although his cheeks are very flushed, the rest of his face is pale and he looks troubled. A deep groove furrows his brow and he looks much older than he did when I arrived this evening.

Shit. Am I the cause of how tired and drawn he looks?

"Um…" I begin. My tongue suddenly now feels thick and I struggle to verbalise what I feel or even think.

"Come on, Edward. Lack of verbosity is rarely an issue for you so please don't allow it to become one now. I need to know. Katy and Annabelle have already left the dungeon; I know you heard the stairs squeak as well as I did. We need to talk now and we haven't got all night. Katy will be in the shower right now, and will no doubt join us shortly. My balls are already for the chop tonight after the way I just spoke to her, so thanks for that. I will be on a sex ban for a week and will no doubt be forced to sleep on the roll out bed in the dungeon until she calms down. I dread to think what she has planned for your punishment but after the way she just begged you to make her cum, I doubt you're in much trouble. She enjoyed herself way too much. I want to talk to you about what happened between you two tonight and I want to do it just between the two of us first. So please, hurry up."

Taking a large gulp of the cool water, I nod as I swipe the back of my hand across over my mouth and put the glass down next to the pills.

"I don't really know what you mean…" I say, quietly. "I was doing as Kat…" I begin until Carlisle scowls and frowns at me, shutting me up. "Um… that is to say, I was doing as the _Mistress _told me to. She told me to fuck her from behind and to make her cum. You were behind us and you told me to do what she asked, so I don't understand why there's some confusion about my actions, Sir. She told me I wasn't to cum or that she would beat my balls with her favourite wooden paddle again, so I did what she told me to do. My balls already felt like two coconuts, so I didn't want her to do anything else to them so I was just doing as she told me to do, Sir."

"I didn't mean that. What I meant was why did you take control and fuck Katy like you were her dominant as you barked orders at her? I can't believe you did that to her! SHE's your Mistress, Edward and you're her slave! You're her fucking PET, Edward! You do as she tells you, not vice versa!" he says, angrily.

"Excuse me, Carlisle, but I take exception to that comment," I say, sounding and feeling affronted and breaking role accordingly.

"Respectfully, boy!" he barks out.

"I'll be respectful when you get your facts right about the contract that I've signed!" I yell back at him. "I am NOT her _slave_, nor am I her _pet, _Sir, I'm her submissive. I didn't sign up to be anyone's slave of bloody pet, SIR!" I finish, pissed off with his behaviour.

"Well, yes," Carlisle says, sounding flustered, "you're right about that, you didn't. You agreed to be my toy and you did sign up to be my submissive and right now, you aren't being very fucking submissive towards either of us, are you, boy? You will make one fucking good lawyer with the way you twist words and manage to state your case quite so concisely! And if you raise your voice to me again, Edward," he says, breathing harder now, "I will bend you over my knee and spank you so hard that you will WISH it was my wife that was handing out your punishment, do you understand me?"

"I agreed to submit to both of you, Sir, not just to you," I say, scowling at him now. "Katy is involved in this particular equation as well, isn't she?"

"Yes… yes… of course she is… that's what I meant…" he stammers.

"Maybe if you were more consistent with my training, Sir," I say as adrenaline pounds through my blood, "then, perhaps, I'd know where I fucking well stand with you! No two sessions are ever the fucking same! One day you want one thing, the next day you expect me to be something else entirely! You treat me as if I'm your personal plaything and I actually thought that I'd signed up to be trained by both of you, Carlisle, not just by fucking well you! One minute you're fucking me in your bed, so tenderly that it feels more like you're making love to me rather than dominating me, and the next, you're screaming at me because I'm not bending to your will when I didn't even know that you wanted me to! I was fucking your wife in exactly the way she wanted and had asked me to,and now you're pissed off with me! Tell me why!" I finish, breathing equally as hard. My cock twitches and shock washes over me as I realise that I'm actually getting aroused at the thought of him smacking my arse as I'm draped over his legs.

For the longest moment, we sit and stare at one another without saying a word. I watch as a deep pink blush moves up his neck and covers his cheeks as his eyes roam my nakedness.

"Yes… well… maybe you're right… maybe you are… I haven't been consistent with you, you're right about that. I've given you preferential treatment over Annabelle and you're right, this has to stop, Edward, and it will. As of right now. Tell me, do you want us to continue with our agreement or not? I'm honestly not sure whether you're submissive material. I'm really not. I was convinced that you were a switch in the very least but having watched the way you took care of Anna last week and ordered Katy around just now, I'm not even sure that you're a switch any more. You were fascinated when Katy punished Anna and I've watched the affect it has on your body when other submissives are being engaged in impact play. I honestly think you have strong dominant tendencies, Edward. Are you aware of the differences between a dominant and a submissive?"

I shake my head, "Um… other than one submits and the other is in charge, no, Sir, not really," I say, honestly.

"Well, it's quite simple really," he says as he stands and walks around the room with his hands behind his back. "A Dominant needs to be wanted and a submissive needs to be needed. To me, in submission, there is a huge sense of freedom, whilst in domination there is responsibility and in both, there is a form of love, and there is definitely trust, respect and faith. Which of those categories do you think you fall into, my boy?" he asks, much gently now as he reaches forwards and touches my hand.

I hadn't been expecting this type of conversation when I was ordered to leave the dungeon, and my heart starts to beat faster as the realisation hits me. And that is that yet again someone in my life, whom I care for, is on the verge of walking out of it and not coming back.

"Are you alright, Edward?" he asks, and as I look up, for some inexplicable reason, my vision is a little bit blurred. It must be that damned dust allergy coming back.

"Yes…" I all but whisper, lying. As I blink to clear my eyes and rub my furrowed brow because, right now, I feel far from alright.

"Good. Well, I want you to think long and hard about what you want from our relationship together. I know we won't see you for three weeks after you leave on Sunday afternoon, and right now, I think that's a good thing. I'll miss you and had planned on spending some free time with you at some point over the holidays, but that's not an option after tonight. I need to have a little bit of separation to think things over I think. You will take your gifts with you when you leave tomorrow and we won't see you again until we return from Barbados in mid-January, so all in all, it will be five weeks until we see you again. Okay?"

Shocked, I look at him and nod reluctantly.

"You don't want to see me for five weeks?" I ask, stunned.

"No," he says firmly. "No, I don't. You need time to think things over, as do I, and we both need to have a little bit of distance. I'm taking my wife away for a well-deserved break, just the two of us. No work. No dominance. No sex toys. Nothing but the two of us. She's been working much too hard and could do with a little sun, sea and nurturing. I've found a bird sanctuary in the Caribbean and she will love it there. We won't see either you or Annabelle for a little while because Katy needs time alone with me to reconnect. I didn't know what she was talking about last weekend when she told me this, but after today's events, I know what she means and I totally agree with her now."

"Okay." I sigh. "I just need to know one thing, please, Sir," I continue. "Exactly what did I do that was so wrong? I followed your instructions and Katy's demands and now you're punishing me?"

"Punishing you? Is that what you think this is? I suppose to someone as naïve and inexperienced in the ways of our lifestyle, you might just think that. I'm not punishing you, boy, I'm giving us both space so that we can decide, one way or another, what we both want and need from this thing we have together. Yes, you followed some of my instructions, Edward. What I actually told you was to make Katy cum and to make sure that she had a good time this evening. I didn't tell you to take control then spank her, drive her insane with your forcefulness and dominate her, did I?" he asks, sounding horrified.

I guess he has a point…

"No, Sir, you didn't." I say flatly.

"No. No, I didn't. You became more dominant towards my wife than I am towards you and Annabelle! Have you any idea how that made me feel? You're meant to be my fucking submissive and I stood there watching you dominating your dominatrix, who isn't a switch, I hasten to add. I can assure you that I was more than a little bit shocked and what was even more distressing to me, Edward, was that she let you do it and loved every minute of it!" he says, sounding appalled. "I've never treated her like that! I'd have no teeth left if I even TRIED to do that to her! SHE dominates me like that in the bedroom when we're off duty and I make love to her at other times, but I've never even considered doing that to her! She's very strong willed, as you've no doubt seen. I've been allowed to spank her with a paddle before, but only the one that had a swan carved out of it, and that was simply so she could know how it felt before she used it on Amy, one of our previous submissives."

"Oh." I say, simply, not knowing what else to say to him.

"Now you see why I got so pissed off, Edward. I think you need time to think long and hard about your wants and needs. If you decide to come back to us in the same way, I want to collar you." Carlisle says.

"What?" I say, frowning at him.

"Yes, I want you to be collared twenty four seven from now on," he says, nodding and pursing his lips as he stares at me. "I want you to wear a sign that you are owned to all who participates in the lifestyle and I want it as a way of focussing your attention at ALL TIMES!"

"I can't wear a neck collar full time, Carlisle!" I gasp out. "Are you crazy? What the hell will they think in Cambridge? You can't wear shit like that when you're rowing!"

"Stop over reacting, Edward, I'll find a way around that. Don't you worry about that at all, I think that this is essential for our future together, should you decide that we have one. It will help us both keep our minds concentrated on what your submission, and my domination, means to one another. I need to take a step back from you a little and allow Katy to plan and organise your training for a bit. I'm getting much too close to you and it isn't good for either of us. My wife and the happiness and security of our marriage are the most important things in my life and I won't risk it for anything. Not even for you, boy, however much I feel for you. Now, go upstairs, have a shower and ask Anna to administer arnica cream. She can massage your balls to ease the burn a little bit, because I know you must be starting to hurt quite badly now, but if you cum, I'll know and I'll punish you both. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir," I say, looking down at my totally deflated cock and think that it might just never rise to the occasion again after today's shit.

"Now, go to your room, get washed, massaged, dressed and go to bed. Drink some water and make sure you get some sleep. If you change your mind about pain killers, Edward, come and find me. I'll be in the basement on the roll out bed, no doubt. I just hope she lets me have a blanket tonight, they're predicting a heavy frost and I've set the central heating to be on all night. The last time we had um… what you might call '_words,'_ she made me sleep on the back door step without anything to lie on or to cover me for two nights. One of the neighbourhood tom cats peed on me during the night. She thought it was really funny… anyway… as you know, my wife has a temper and I've royally pissed her off tonight. Katy and I have a few things to discuss before we go to bed and I think it would be best if we all spend tomorrow decorating the Christmas tree and then Katy, Anna and I will spend a little time in the play room. You won't be joining in. You will be watching and hopefully learning how to do as you're told, by watching my wife and me as we play with our far more submissive female toy. If you don't want to do that, you may say so now and leave tomorrow morning. What do you want to do?" he asks.

"I'll watch and learn if that's acceptable to you, thank you, Sir," I say quietly, not wanting to leave.

"Good. Now go," he says, waving his hand dismissively at me.

Standing, I cover my cock with my clasped hands, hovering near him not knowing what to say or do next.

"Is there something you want to say to me, boy?" he asks, raising his face to me.

"No, Sir," I say, uncertainly. "Um… that is… yes… um… do you want me to leave? Would you rather I did? I've obviously overstepped the mark and you're really pissed off with me, so would it be better if I just went home?"

Staring at me, he sighs before he stands up and puts his hands on my shoulders. "No, Edward, I don't want you to leave," he says, closing his eyes briefly. "Part of the problem I have with you is that I never want you to leave. I want you here all the time but we need to put everything into some sort of perspective. I'm risking a lot if I don't deal with my feelings for you before it's too late and to this end, I need to change the way we are together from now on. I need to clarify exactly what we are to one another in my brain and to stop my stupid romantic sensibilities. Come on, let's get you into bed and see how we all feel tomorrow. Okay?"

Nodding, I turn towards the door, not really knowing what the fuck he's talking about. I have no idea what romance feels like but I hope to god it isn't what I feel for Carlisle. "Goodnight, Sir," I say, as I walk up the final flight of stairs to our bedroom.

Annabelle is standing in front of the mirror drying her hair when I close the door behind me and before I've turned to face her, she starts complaining.

"_You're a fucking idiot, Edward!" _she hisses out. "_Do you know what you've done? Katy was so distressed at the way she lost control with you that she started to cry and threw her duck patterned tea pot across the room in rage!"_

Fuck it all.

"I didn't mean to cause any trouble, Anna," I say, sighing, as I attempt to try to undo the shackles. Yanking and pulling at them doesn't do anything but cause the edges of them to rub my slightly swollen muscles painfully and I hiss in discomfort at I pinch my skin.

"Stop struggling," she says, "I've got the key. Katy isn't that mean. You couldn't have a shower wearing those, now stop wriggling and just stand still."

When she's finished freeing me, she drags me into the bathroom and turns on the shower. "Get washed and then come back and let me rub you down," she says, lowering her eyes. "Your balls look really sore. Christ, she really went to town on them tonight, Edward. They're blood red! Shit… I've never seen anything like it. They're really swollen too. Are you in a lot of pain?"

"I'm okay," I say, but I wince as I stand under the too hot water and clean myself quickly, before I wash my hair.

"Why don't you stop being such a prick and just take the fucking painkillers, Edward?" she says as I step out and wrap a towel around my waist. Thankfully the room is lovely and warm and I roll my stiff neck as I rub my hair dry. Annabelle opens a tube of arnica cream as I brush my teeth. "Lie down on the rug. On your back," she says, quietly. "You're an utter dick suffering like this. You really are. Those pills would mean that you'd at least get some sleep. When the remaining numbness wears off, you're going to struggle to fucking walk and piss, let alone relax enough to sleep."

For the next ten minutes she massages me. She doesn't spend long on my balls, thankfully, and they hurt pretty badly now. So much, in fact that my cock doesn't even twitch when she picks it up with one hand and carefully applies the cool lotion to my balls with her other one. "Shit your cock weighs a fucking tonne when it's limp, Eddie," she huffs. "I'm surprised you don't faint through lack of blood when it gets hard. Is it heavy to lug around?"

"Fuck off," I mutter, as I stand up and tug on my ridiculous sleep suit. "I don't even notice it. Stop being so stupid."

Climbing into bed, I immediately turn my small light off and roll over.

"Are you really sure that you don't you want those pills? I promise you, they will help. I've had to take them before I've gone to bed on so many occasions. It isn't a sign of weakness you know. And you should really have some water, it's been a long night and you have to be in pain. Please drink something, Eddie," she says, but I ignore her. I close my eyes and when she thinks that I'm a sleep, I lie for ages in the semi-darkness, thinking back to what happened this evening.

Carlisle's assessment was quite right. I loved dominating my Mistress.

It was mesmerising, exhausting and exhilarating in ways that I can't even begin to understand. I'd never considered my bossy arrogance to be dominance before. I've always been in charge of every aspect of my life before. Part of the appeal, for me, of signing up to train to be a submissive in the first place was to let someone else control me for a change. I'd just never thought that I was capable of being a dominant. Am I? Is that what I am? Shit… When I'd smacked her arse, I just about came on the spot. Her slender body had rippled against mine and the whimpering and whining sounds that came from her mouth as I'd done exactly as she'd told me to, well… I'd never felt anything like it before. Do I want to be their submissive or do I want to find someone to train me how to dominate? I want to learn from them, that much is true. But do I want to submit to their every whim? I don't know… I've never given any kind of thought to learning to be a dominant before. Do I have the time for any of that? And even more importantly, do I have the temperament to be able to control someone else? And do I have the strength to be able to know how far to push someone and to stop if they tell me to?

Shit.

I don't know…

….

Rubbing my eyes, I'm shocked to see that its morning and Annabelle is standing next to my bunk, holding a cup of coffee. "Morning, sleepy head," she says, smiling. "Well despite you're swollen, sore nuts, you managed to sleep, didn't you? You snored your fucking head off all night and kept me awake, arse wipe! Anyway, come on, time to get up! They've decided to give us all a day off today," she says as I sit up and flinch as I bang my head off the top bunk. "We're decorating the tree and then we're to spend the afternoon doing our uni work. Katy wants to have a family weekend because we won't be seeing them for a while. A bit like our own version of Christmas, I suppose, but I think it was because of the way you screwed up last night. Carlisle had a shitty night. He looks terrible and I know he didn't sleep with her because when I made her bed this morning, only Katy's side had been slept in. I have no idea where he slept."

"He said she would make him sleep in the basement," I say simply.

"Christ… poor sod…" she says, "I slept down there on my own once and it was utterly HORRID! I was made to use a bucket to pee in. it was "

"On your own?" I ask, scowling.

"Yes, I was too hot and I liked the cold, hard floor, but that was until I was left alone in the dark after I told Carlisle to 'fuck off' when he tried to fuck me anally for the first time. I'd told him he could but I didn't like it and I forgot where I was when he hurt me. I learned my lesson and have never done that again. It was really dark, cold and scary. Never again."

"I wouldn't like it either," I say.

"No, you wouldn't. It was horrible. Anyway, she's put a leg of lamb in the oven and is cooking a proper roast dinner tonight! I can't wait! I haven't had a roast for ages and she's an amazing cook. I think she might even do a trifle for pud! Hurry up, Eddie. Katy wants to see you to make sure you're okay. I think she's worried because she knows she went a bit hard on your body last night. She wants Carlisle to check your balls, Eddie. I told her that they looked like passion fruit when I rubbed them last night. She's concerned that she might have caused some damage," she says, without any sense of embarrassment in her voice as she brushes her hair. "Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes so have a quick shower and meet me in the kitchen. I'm really quite excited," she continues, brightly, "I haven't ever been allowed to decorate a tree before! Mother had them professionally decorated! I wasn't allowed to put so much as one bauble on her precious bloody tree! They're letting us help them!"

"Yippee," I say, half-heartedly. "I've got fucking Clarissa going all Christmassy on me and now you as well? Jesus… no fucking wonder I'm not interested in ever having a relationship. I think I should stick to fucking and being fucked by men. You lot are all sodding mental…" I grumble, as I yank the quilt over my head.

"Get up, Eddie! It's almost Christmas!" she squeals.

Ugh.

"Look," I say, popping my head out again, "I've got a tree at my flat. I've got Clarissa wearing plastic robins in her fucking hair and she's even taken to wrapping tinsel around the handle of her bag along with some bells that tinkle wherever we go and that drives me nuts. Now, tell me in all honesty, why the hell I should be excited about any more of this crap?" I grumble, climbing out of bed and unzipping my much too hot sleep suit. "I don't know why everyone gets so fucking excited about Christmas. It's only one sodding day. I've spent a fortune on presents, why do I need to do anything else?"

"Stop being a miserable old git, Edward," she huffs, "you sound about as full of festive cheer as Ebenezer Scrooge! Get your arse in gear and get down stairs, Katy's done us a full English breakfast! Can't you smell it? It smells delicious! Hurry up! I'm starving and we can't eat until you join us!"

The shower isn't as painful as the night before, thank God, but dressing in jeans is a bit of a trial. I haven't brought anything else with me so I haven't got a choice, but at times like this I wish I'd taken up Clarissa's offer and hung onto that fucking kilt.

Breakfast is as delicious as Annabelle had predicted but the atmosphere is far from conducive for a relaxed meal. I tuck in to a white pudding that I've drenched in HP sauce before I help myself to some bacon, sausages, poached eggs, beans, mushrooms and tomatoes. I'm absolutely starving and have no intention of stinting on the amount I eat this morning.

"Could you pass me some toast please, Katy," Carlisle asks, smiling at his wife as he leans forwards and tries to touch her fingers.

She ignores him as she moves her hand slowly, but very deliberately away from his and instead, pours herself some tea.

"Is that the lime and lemon marmalade you made in the summer? Or is it the orange one?" he asks as he spoons some onto his side plate. "It's the most delicious preserve I've ever tasted. You should really try some, Annabelle. You chopped the oranges for her, didn't you? Are they Seville oranges, Katy?" he jabbers.

She ignores him as she puts a little bit of strawberry jam on her plate.

"Are these duck eggs or hens' eggs, love?" he asks her.

She still ignores him.

Annabelle and I look at one another but say nothing as Katy smiles sweetly at me and pats me on the back of the hand.

"I made that jam. We went to Scotland for a long weekend in the summer and Anna and I collected loads of loganberries and made this when we returned to London. It's delicious, try some," she says as she spreads some on the corner of a croissant before she pops it into my mouth.

Carlisle looks utterly crestfallen and I feel like a total shit.

"Hurry up and finish your food, children," Katy says, with an odd edge to her voice as she looks everywhere but at her husband. "I want you to get the boxes of decorations down from the attic for me, Edward; the tree is already in place in the drawing room. I've put the lamb in the oven already and will slow cook it. When we've decorated the tree, you two may either work together in your room, or bring your books down stairs and use the dining room table," she says, still resolutely ignoring her husband.

Carlisle scowls at me and rolls his neck. It cracks loudly and he winces, "That floor is very unforgiving, Katy," he whines, as he looks at her imploringly. She still ignores him. "Can I at least sleep on the couch tonight? Please, love? I've got a really busy week ahead of me."

"Come on, Edward," Katy says smiling at me, "Anna can clean up and you and I will go and get the boxes. Did you make your bed and tidy your room already? I do hope so. I don't like a mess."

"Yes, I made my bed and put everything away," I say, nodding.

"Shall I come and help you, love?" Carlisle asks weakly. "Annabelle can manage here without me, can't you? If there are three boxes, we can each bring one down. Yes?"

"That's good, Edward. I know you're a tidy boy. Well, come on, time is trotting on and we need to get a wriggle on or we won't get finished in time. There are three big boxes to bring down stairs and they're pretty heavy. Let's go." She doesn't answer his question so I'm guessing that the answer is a definitive no.

We rattle about in the precisely ordered attic for a little while, moving stuff around and lining things up so that the labels show. Carlisle likes precision in all things. Carrying two of the three boxes downstairs, I wince as my boxer shorts rub against my sore balls.

"Let's get your Master to have a look at your balls and see what damage I've meted out, Edward," Katy chuckles, as she slaps me hard on the back.

"I'm sorry I caused problems between you two," I say to her quietly, as I turn to look at her nervously. "I didn't mean to. I really didn't."

"I know you didn't and to be honest, you didn't. Not really. You were the catalyst, it isn't your fault. I was pissed off with Carlisle anyway; we've had an argument brewing for a few days so it just gave me the excuse I needed to let him know how I feel! I'm menopausal, Edward," she chuckles. "My poor hubs feels the wrath of my temper regularly these days, I just usually manage to hold it in until you two have left!"

"What's the matter?" I ask. "Why were you arguing, Mistress. Is it because of me and my lack of submission?"

"Sort of. It has nothing to do with you, per se," she says. "Carlisle is becoming obsessed and I need to rein him in a little bit. That's why we're going away for a couple of weeks together. He needs to forget work, London, the fact that he's a dominant and frankly, you. Don't get upset, but he is my husband and he really needs to remember that he has a wife, and that sometimes, just sometimes, he needs to put his shiny new toy back in its box and play with the one he married."

"Oh…" I say.

"It's nothing personal, Edward," she continues as we descend the stairs. "He always gets a bit too close to our boy subs and I've come to expect nothing less. But with you it's different. Very, very different… well, put it this way, with you, it's just a little bit more intense than it's ever been before. So, as you can see, if I want to keep my marriage strong, I need to wake my husband up to the error of his ways by making him suffer my silence and his own discomfort for a few days longer."

When we reach the drawing room, Carlisle has just finished lighting the fire. There are swags of holly, ivy and mistletoe all over the place and it looks lovely, unlike Clarissa's slap dash mess, this is beautifully put together and everything is fresh and new. Candles are burning all over the place and it smells of Christmas. I recognise cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, all sorts of spices and evergreens, just the way Esme and Charlotte do their Christmas decorating, and it's truly delicious and very emotive.

Annabelle is laying things out on the low table with mince pies, a jug of something and a thermos cafetiere with coffee. There are china mugs and other bits and pieces and she smiles at me excitedly as I carry the boxes into the room.

"I can't wait to see what you've got in there!" she squeals. "I've laid out the elevenses so that we don't have to stop decorating, Mistress!"

"Before we begin," Katy says, placing her box on top of the two boxes that I've just placed on the floor. "Drop your trousers and boxers, Edward. Let Carlisle check you over. You look as if you're in a lot of pain and I want to make sure that I haven't hurt you too badly. You've got to return to Cambridge tomorrow and no doubt you've got lots of gym sessions organised. Come on. Drop them."

"In here?" I ask. Looking around the room, I suddenly feel strangely uncomfortable and horribly exposed.

"Of course, love! Come on, drop them," she says. "We've all seen, licked, hit and fucked those bad boys before, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You're amongst friends here!" she sniggers. "Come on!"

Sighing, I do as she says and unbutton my Levi's and yank them down to around my knees. Carlisle kneels in front of me and examines me. Of course, my cock twitches at the feel of his cool hands and as he lifts it up and cups my balls, I exhale sharply, because I'm instantly hard and leaking. Carlisle doesn't help matters by licking his lips and looking up at me. As our eyes lock, I shuffle closer to him.

"Don't even think about it," Katy says, staring at Carlisle and putting her hands on her hips. "His balls are still really red and they're going to bruise, I can tell by the purple tinge. Sorry, love," she says, smiling at me. "And I want to get this room decorated before the end of the day. If you two start, I won't get any sense out of either of you until tomorrow morning. Edward, tuck that monster away," she says, laughing as she throws her duck embroidered handkerchief at me, "Here, wipe its eye, it's weeping. Annabelle, pour the coffee, Carlisle, open the boxes," she orders. "I'll get the step ladder and put the swan on the top."

"Isn't that meant to be a fairy or an angel?" Annabelle asks, frowning.

"_Ssssh!"_ Carlisle orders, "For fuck sake, Annabelle! Don't question her about her tree! I'll be on that bloody floor for the next month if you do and my back is fucked up as it is!"

To say that Katy's decorations could give Clarissa's a run for their money in their oddness is the understatement of the century. There are sequinned, feathered and gem encrusted birds of every description embellishing the fragrant, greeny-blue branches and I smile because unlike Clarissa's, there are few Christmassy things in their midst. There are, of course, one or two sparkly robins, but it's the fact that there are more ducks, geese and swans than anything else that makes me smile. There are even a couple of feathery flamingos and a couple of peacocks dotted amongst the usual waterfowl.

When we've finished, we sit in front of the fire and eat mince pies whilst drinking mulled wine.

"Did you enjoy that?" Katy asks me, smiling.

"Yes, I did actually," I say, around a mouthful of her delicious pastry. "I've only done my tiddly tree before, never anything as huge as this. I've had a good time."

"Okay, I'm doing toasted sandwiches and salad for a late lunch," she says, "When they're ready, take them, and some milk, up to your rooms or bring your paperwork down here. I want you to knuckle down and get on with some essays. I think it will do you both good to get ahead so that when you're on your break, you actually get some time to play and rest. But you mustn't play together, remember."

I go upstairs and grab my lap top and ruck sack before I sit at the table and spread everything out in front of me as Katy hands me my lunch. I eat as I work and as I look up, Annabelle is putting all her stuff at the far end of the table, whilst putting her glasses on. I didn't even realise she wore specs.

For the next four hours, I lose myself in my work and only when the light overhead is turned on do I look up, squinting.

"You'll hurt your eyes, Eddie," Annabelle says. "Actually, you frown a lot when you're reading and working, when did you last have your eyes tested?"

I've never had them tested but she's right, I do struggle if I spend too long staring at a computer screen.

After we've put everything away, we have a wonderful dinner and when we've finished, we sit around the fire by the light of candles and the Christmas tree and I listen, with rapt attention, at their childhood tales. When they ask me to talk about my childhood, I change the subject and say that I'm tired and would like to have a shower and go to bed.

Sunday dawns grey and overcast and after breakfast, Katy hands me a gift bag filled with oddly wrapped presents and they both hug us and kiss us goodbye and wish us a Merry Christmas. How she's found Christmas paper embellished with ducks wearing Santa hats is beyond me, but nothing about her surprises me anymore.

Annabelle comes back to my flat with me and puts her pile of presents under my tree along with my bag. "Can I spend Christmas with you, Eddie?" she asks. "The folks are skiing and I haven't been asked to join them, as usual, and I don't want to be alone."

"Yeah… why not?" I say. "Jasper's family haven't mentioned Christmas to me yet, so I don't know what's happening with them, either, so yes, you can."

"That was the oddest weekend I've ever spent," she says, sipping her much too strong espresso. "And coming from the weirdo family I have, that's really saying something," she finishes, dunking a bourbon biscuit into her cup.

"I'm not driving back tonight," I say as I wash up. "I don't have a lecture until Tuesday and I want to go and have my eyes tested in the morning. Are you busy or do you want to come too?" I ask her. "I've got a few things to buy as well. I need some new clothes and have to think about buying some food for here, now that we're not seeing the Hale's for a while," I continue as I throw a load of clothes into the washing machine and turn it on. "The fridge and freezer are bare so I'd better stock up."

"Can I stay the night, Eddie?" she asks. "I don't want to go back to my cold flat. The heating needs fixing and I can't be arsed to ring the engineer. Can I sleep over with you? No funny business, obviously."

"Of course you can," I say. "But you aren't sleeping in bed with me. You know what we're like."

I make a bed up for Anna on the couch whilst she showers. She then puts on one of my t-shirts and a pair of my boxer shorts to sleep in. They are far too big for her and it's so funny that they slide down over her narrow hips every time she moves.

By the time I've plugged my computer in and put my books on my bed, Anna is asleep, sprawled out on my large sofa. I work for another couple of hours and wake up at some point during the night when the computer is lifted off me and the lamp by my bedside is turned off. Anna then climbs into bed with me, wraps her arms around me and goes to sleep curled up against me, despite what I'd said to her.

…

The next morning, we head into the West End and I have my eyes tested. It turns out that my eye sight is totally screwed and I have a stigmatism in my left eye. I choose two pairs of specs just in case I lose a pair. Finding out that my eyes are far from perfect is a bit of a shock to be honest. I've never had any part of my body turn out to be defective before. I soon change my mind because the second I put a pair of dark tortoiseshell frames on, Anna looks at me oddly and her pupils dilate as her cheeks flush.

"What's the matter?" I ask, scowling, as I look at myself in the mirror. "Are they awful?"

"Fucking hell, Cullen," she sighs, as she shoves me firmly in the chest before she strokes over my pectorals, scraping her nails just like she did when we fucked on the rug in our submissives room, without permission. "How in the name of fuck do you put a pair of glasses on and end up looking hotter than ever? You're like some sort of Clark fucking Kent in those!"

Laughing, I shove her back as the assistant hovers around me. "You do look very handsome in them, Sir," she says, giggling. "Very pretty. Your girlfriend is quite right. You really do look very nice. Can I help you with anything else?" she asks, fluttering her eyelashes at me before she licks her over painted lips.

"See?" Anna laughs.

She clutches my hand in hers and leads me from the shop after I'm told that my glasses will be ready in a couple of days, and I arrange to have them posted to me in Cambridge. "I know you hate the fact that you're so good looking, Edward," she says. All of a sudden, she stops and stares at some overly decorated shop window and ums and ahs at a pair of ridiculously high heeled shoes. "But put it this way, it will open lots of doors, career wise, not to mention legs, in your life, so get used to it!"

"Shut up!" I laugh, dragging her unwillingly away from the shop.

"I want to go in there!" she says, protesting loudly. Ignoring her, I yank her across the road towards a café where we order coffee and pastries.

The Edwardian café is warm and welcoming and crowded.

"So," she asks, as she tears an éclair to pieces, "tell me who you're fucking in Cambridge and don't lie, I saw the scratch marks on your back. And so did Carlisle and Katy. That's what put Carlisle in such a mood in the first place. I saw his face when you pulled your t-shirt off and saw the furrowed scratches. He was shocked at first, and then utterly furious. I was watching them both and Katy actually looked quite concerned by his reaction. So tell me who he, or she, is."

Shrugging, I tell her all about Henrietta, in between mouthfuls of a raison Danish party. I've got no reason not to tell her, and she listens in silence as I describe the wild woman who is not only my lecturer but who has become my latest fuck buddy too.

"You know," she says, sipping her foamy cappuccino, "I can see a pattern developing here, Eddie," she muses, pursing her lips. "You had a long standing sexual relationship with Riley at Eton. You really admired him and loved the fact that he was your PE teacher. He helped you excel in sports of all kinds and as a consequence, you're now good enough to row for Cambridge. Now you're fucking the lecturer that you most admire and the one that you can learn the most from about criminal law. Don't you agree that there's a definite pattern developing with regard to this type of thing? It's almost like you're looking for a latent parent figure. Yes?"

Shit.

"I don't see any such thing," I huff, shoving my plate away. "Stop analysing me, Anna and stick to your sodding spread sheets. Since when were you in training to be a fucking shrink?"

"Ah," she says, nodding sagely, "I've touched a raw nerve there, I think. Yes? The truth hurts, doesn't it? Why don't you get it? Like me, you go for a father or mother figure. So what? BDSM is a lot about mentoring and being mentored. The whole 'daddy' and 'baby,' thing in the lifestyle is about nurturing and allowing someone to look after you. It has sod all to do with incestuous fantasies like the uninitiated think."

"Shit… what the fuck is wrong with you today?" I ask, huffing. "Did you swallow a psychiatric encyclopaedia along with that cake, Anna?"

"Shut up, Edward," she sighs. "Why don't you let Carlisle and Katy teach you, Eddie? Just stop fighting against them, learn to submit and then decide what you want to do. I think you're a dominant and I've thought it for a while now. I'm not entirely sure that I'm not one either, BUT I want to learn everything I can from them, submissively, before I decide. If I am a dominatrix, I want to know everything that my future submissives will experience at my hand so to that end, I will keep being submissive and allow them to train my mind and body. The best Doms and Dommes have all trained to be subs first. I think being a dominant would help focus your mind far more and might even help you with your career. You're a control freak," she says, nodding as I glower at her.

"Stop talking bollocks, Anna," I say, thinking she's being ridiculous.

"Don't look at me like that, Edward, you are a control freak. You know you are and I recognise it in you because I'm one too. You like getting your own way and sulk if you don't get it. I think by having to plan scenes and look after the needs of a submissive first and yourself second will help you compartmentalise your life better. I watched you take control of Katy last night. I don't know who was more shocked, her or Carlisle. I've been with them for quite a while now and I've NEVER seen her lose it like that before. I've been in the room when they make love, the same as you have. And although she seems to enjoy herself, I've never seen her zone out like that. Carlisle was hurt, Edward, I saw it on his face. I heard them talking this morning. He wanted to know if you'd satisfied her more than he ever has and she said not mentally, no, but that she'd loved the way you allowed her to let go and hand over her usual dominance. They plan of trying this on their holiday and Carlisle has changed their hotel room to a private bungalow on the beach. I understand why they need some space away from us. Well, no, not us. They're fond of me, but it's nothing like the way he feels about you."

Looking at her, I scowl. "You're talking shit…" I protest, half-heartedly.

"You know it's you that he has strong feelings for. You. Edward. You. You're making them reassess everything in their world. Their marriage. Their relationship. And even their BDSM lifestyle. You are a bit of an enigma to us all, I think, and confuse everyone wherever you go," she finishes, clicking her fingers to order more coffee.

I wish she wouldn't do that when we're out, it's rude and embarrassing.

"I didn't know… why on earth are they reassessing things?" I say, quietly. "What the hell do I do now? Do I walk away from them? Not contact them again? Shit…" I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I scowl at Annabelle.

"You submit to them, that's what you do. You learn what you need and let them teach you without fighting them, then we both decide what we want and move on. That's what their other submissives have done. Don't make this more than it is, Eddie," she says, tucking into a coffee flavoured choux pastry confection now, "They need us as much as we need them. Carlisle will get over himself. He has to. He has waaaaay too much to lose. Katy says this won't really affect them long term, but that's why she's yanking her husband in line now, before it's too late. Now, eat up and let's go shopping. There's a pair of shoes over there with my name on them!" she laughs, pointing across the road to the garish shop that I just yanked her away from.

Bollocks. I hate fucking shopping with women. I still have sodding nightmares from when Rosalie used to parade around in front of us almost naked and we couldn't say or do anything about it. My balls used to hurt so badly when she would twirl around, with her arse cheeks hanging out, that I would wank for hours and cum repeatedly without any kind of feeling of satisfaction as I sniffed and sucked the crotch of a pair of her used knickers.

….

The drive back to Cambridge is quiet and I'm sodding grateful for that. For once, I don't even listen to my mother's music. I'm exhausted, and I'm very glad that I had the foresight to wear a pair of loose fitting, soft cotton tracksuit bottoms, because my balls have really started to ache now.

Anna and I shopped for _hours_ this morning. The shops were hot and noisy and she yakked and blethered to me the entire time, which drove me nuts. She even dragged me into various department stores whilst she chose some new underwear. The shop assistants fawned and fussed around me. Although they thought that we were a couple, they still batted their eyelashes at me and gave me somewhere to sit. They even offered to go to the coffee shop next door to get me a drink. Just looking at them, I knew by their flushed faces and dilated pupils that help and refreshments weren't the only thing they were offering me. And despite the fact that they mentioned my 'girlfriend' whenever they spoke to me and even asked if there was anything I'd seen that I would like to buy for her, a few of them slipped their numbers into my bags when they thought I wasn't looking.

But I was.

John's comments that I needed to become more observant if I wanted to become a good lawyer had resonated deep within me and I'd started to pay far more attention to situations around me. I'd also begun to read up on body language. I wanted to make sure that the shop assistants knew that I was out of bounds, so I took the scraps of paper out, screwed them up and threw them in the bin, in their line of vision. I don't like girls who are quite as forward as that. Well… no… that's not really true. I like a girl who grabs me by the balls and tells me to fuck her. I just didn't fancy any of them and I really don't have the time, energy or inclination to start fucking anyone else right now. Katy, Carlisle, Annabelle, and of course the ever demanding Henrietta, are killing me with their sexually voracious wants and needs.

Pulling into my parking space, I sigh as I struggle into my building and upstairs towards my rooms. As usual, Clarissa is waiting for me on the landing, and she chatters away like a gerbil on speed as she tries to show me the photographs from the ball whilst I'm laden down with bags, laundry and food shopping. When I eventually wrestle my way through the door and drop everything on the table, she yanks me to a standstill and thrusts the bundle of celluloid into my hands. There's only one photograph of her and I together and I have to say, I quite like the outfit she coerced me into, well, now I'm no longer wearing it, anyway. Bless her. Her outfit is even more vile than I remembered. She looks as if the Christmas fairy has thrown a pile of fabric at her for a laugh, obviously, but the smile plastered on her face is utterly genuine and I grin in response. She is such a lovely girl but her taste in clothing leaves a lot to be desired. Sadly, the flash had rendered her dress totally see-through and it's only now that I realise she wasn't wearing a bra that night. Her nipples are sitting low down on her ribs, almost level with her belly button, and I sigh, saying nothing, as I move onto the next picture.

Torquil looks like a slimy oik, as usual, and whilst Clarissa is gazing at him with utter love and devotion, he is staring at Ali's tits and has his hand cupping her boob. The bastard.

There is one photograph of Henrietta and I together and my traitorous cock twitches when I look at her undulating curves that are encased in black satin. Well… encased isn't really the right word. Imprisoned is closer to the truth because her breasts look like they're about to make a bid for freedom and break out at any second. I have my arm around her waist, high up, just below her ample left breast and I smile, remembering how it had felt against my stroking fingers. It was warm, heavy and silky and once more, my cock twitches and my bruised balls throb.

"I've missed you, Ned," Clarissa says. "Come and have lunch with me. Why didn't you come back yesterday? I've been waiting for you. It's the last week of term and there are parties every night! Crispin came looking for you yesterday and wanted to know why you hadn't arrived for training. Where were you? Did you go Christmas shopping? Have you finished buying your presents? Come in and have a sherry! You look like you're in dire need of refreshments, sweetie! Why did you leave me at the ball? You were meant to be our date and you left with the Black Widow. I was hurt."

Sighing, I shake my head as I unlock my study door, listening to her rattling away, nineteen to the dozen. I keep my door locked at all times and even the cleaner isn't allowed in there unless I'm around. I have various projects pinned on notice boards and in precise piles on shelves, on the desk and on the small filing cabinet and would be seriously pissed off if anything got moved.

"If you shut up for thirty seconds, I'll tell you," I say to her, as I try to manoeuvre my way around her ample frame that's now wedged in the door frame.

"Come and have a drink!" she says. "I've made a sardine casserole for supper! Come on, there's enough for three of us. Ali has already drunk half a bottle of sherry and she's fast asleep on the couch so she's not going to be any kind of company tonight. Come on, Ned, please?"

"No. No thanks," I say, unpacking my bag. "I can't today, I really haven't got time. I'm going to go for a swim and then want to spend a couple of hours with the guys in the gym. I phoned Jacques to tell him that I wouldn't be around yesterday, he's the captain so I don't know why Crispin was hanging around looking for me," I explain, scowling. "And then I'm busy this evening." I finish, trying not to look at her because I know what her expression will be like.

"Are you seeing the Black Widow tonight?" Clarissa moans, and when I raise an eyebrow at her, she grumbles. "I wish you weren't having sex with her, darling. She isn't a lady, you know and you really are from excellent stock. Daddy always says that a prime gene pool shouldn't waste its seed on less deserving ground. I could introduce you to some charming girls. One of my old school friends, Hillary Chumley-Brown, is coming to visit me over Christmas. Why don't you pop up for Hogmanay and meet her? We have plenty of spare bedrooms, sweetie and I know that Torqi would love to spend some time with you. He wants to take you out stalking. He wants you to polish his big gun and stalk the heather together."

I just bet he fucking does, and not looking for stags either…

"I don't want her to be a lady, Clarissa. I like the fact that what you see is what you get with her. There's no side to her, she is exactly what she seems to be and I wouldn't exactly say I'm seeing her. I'm fucking her and she fucks me, it's as simple as that. Don't make it out to be something it isn't, for God's sake," I sigh, ignoring her offer of spending and celebrating the dawning of the New Year with them. The last thing I want is to be cooped up in a draughty old castle, in the middle of nowhere, whilst I try and dodge bloody Torquil and his wandering fucking hands whilst he slaughters some poor unsuspecting animal.

Looking over my shoulder, I chuckle at the horrified expression on her face.

"It isn't nice, Neddy! To be like that with someone, it isn't right. It would seem that everyone in Cambridge wants to have sex with you, but me, obviously. I'm happy with my own boy. I think that even some of your rowing friends might fancy you, which, of course, is ridiculous. Why would boys fancy you?"

Sigh.

"Clarissa, some of them bat for the other team, love." I say, smiling at her naivety.

"Bat for the other team?" she asks, scowling. "I thought they were rowers? Do you play tennis as a way of training too?"

"No, Clarissa. I mean some of them are gay or bisexual and to be honest, I don't mind it if they fancy me, I don't fancy any of them, but it's flattering if some of them like me." I say, taking some milk out of the fridge.

"Neddy. I'm your friend, one of your best friends and feel genuine love for you. And all I want you to do is to settle down with a nice girl. I want you to be as happy as Torqi and I are. What about Ali? She's lovely." Clarissa witters on, as I try to get passed her to get some biscuits out of the cupboard.

"Well, there are two things standing in the way of that particular plan, Clarissa," I say, turning the kettle on, "Firstly, I don't fancy Ali and secondly, she's gay. So there would be no point in me making a pass at her, would there? And anyway, Clarissa, Henrietta keeps me busy whilst I'm here in Cambridge. What with her, the gym, rowing, you and your snoring friend next door, and my studies, I don't have either the time, or the inclination, for a relationship with anyone. Now, let's have coffee and biscuits and just forget it, shall we? I have work to do for tomorrow so I don't have much time to spare. And to answer another of your many, many questions, I didn't abandon you at the ball. I arranged for your boyfriend to meet us there and to accompany you. I thought you'd like it. I apologise if you didn't. Anyway, let's end the Inquisition, shall we? I have afternoon coffee to prepare for you!" I laugh as I put my bags of clothes in the walk in cupboard.

At the mere mention of biscuits, Clarissa shuts up and scoots into the sitting room, plonking herself down, clapping excitedly. "Do you have those ginger ones again?" she asks.

"No, not today," I say, as I carry a small tray with me, "These will have to do. They're not homemade, I'm afraid; they're just from the Supermarket."

We sit at my small table and I watch Clarissa decimate the plate of chocolate chip cookies, some custard creams and an entire Battenberg cake, like a plague of locusts, whilst I sip my coffee and smile at her benignly.

When all that's left of the entire packets of biscuits are a few crumbs, and there is only a tiny corner of marzipan left on her saucer, she stands up, getting ready to leave. She tells me that if I won't go in for a little 'drinky poo,' then she's going food shopping and I fight the urge to laugh, as she bundles up in a thick, orange duffle coat that belts around the middle with a vivid pink tie. It has to be the most unflattering coat in the world and she looks like a large bottle of Tango. When she adds a red scarf, lime green woolly gloves and flower patterned, vivid yellow and orange wellingtons, I sigh and shake my head.

"Going for the inconspicuous look today, are you, Clarissa?" I ask, smiling.

"What do you mean?" she says, as she shoves the most ridiculous thing on her head that I've ever seen. It consists of a black band that circles her head and above it, there's a small, rainbow striped mini umbrella. So really, it's an umbrella hat.

"What the fuck is that?" I ask, stunned, as I point to her head.

"Nifty isn't it, Ned?" she asks, smiling. "I found it in a shop in Edinburgh. I've bought you and Daddy one too. He can wear it when he's fishing or deer stalking and you can wear yours when you're rowing. I think they're ingenious! A hands free brolly! How great is that? I bet your chums on the water will all want one when they see yours! Tell them I can get them all one if they want me to. I've wrapped yours up and popped it in a stocking along with a few other bits and bobs for Chrissy, darling. I know you don't really do Christmas but I do, and I want you to have a couple of nice things."

Watching her splashing through the deep puddles in the quadrangle from my window like some sort of ADHD toddler, as passers-by try to dodge her silly game, I smile. She's really very much like a child in a tall, uncoordinated adult body, but there is nothing but kindness and goodness in her and I wish I was more like her. I wish I was nice and kind, instead of a cold hearted bastard, and maybe she's right. Perhaps a relationship would be nice and would give me some semblance of normality. But no, no that's not for me.

After a gruelling session in the gym, where I fight the urge to punch someone every time my balls hit the seat of the rowing machine, I have a shower and return to my rooms. I want to sleep but instead, I force myself to do a few hour's work before I head off to have dinner with Henrietta.

Dinner consists of eating a steak so rare, that I'm sure I heard it complain when I stuck my fork in it. Watching her tearing into the meat with gay abandon is utterly erotic. She has appetites that match my own, and my cock bangs against the buttons of my jeans in a bid to get to her. There's something so primal and untamed about her that I find her almost impossible to resist and wonder, at times, whether I would cancel my times with Katy and Carlisle just so that I could be with her.

When we've eaten, she looks over some of the work I've been doing on yet another case that fascinates me, and that is the case of the infamous serial, Peter Sutcliffe, the Yorkshire Ripper.

She's very impressed with the level of detail I've put into my essay, and sipping red wine, we chat for about an hour. As she takes me over the finer points of the total disaster the police made of the case, I slide my hand up her thigh and make tiny circles on the expensive silk hosiery, and when I see a small trickle of sweat slither slowly down her neck, I tell her that tonight I'm in charge. I don't know whether Anna and Carlisle are right about me being more dominant than submissive, to be honest, but I quite like the idea of putting it to the test. So, staring at her, I take her hand and lead her from the table.

Forcing her to stand in the middle of the room, I walk around her, looking her over. As usual, she looks stunning. Her dress clings to her every curve and her breasts look larger and fuller than ever. Her backside and hips look more rounded than usual and I trail my fingers over her hardened nipples as I lick her throat. She shivers as I strip her slowly out of her woollen dress and bra, before I slide one of her stockings off and use it to bind her hands in front of her. Sitting down, on the black leather chair in front of her desk, I pull her onto my jean covered knee and spread her legs widely, with one of her knees either side of mine. She whimpers as I slip one hand inside her lacy thong and fuck her with two of my fingers whilst I use my thumb to rub and press her clitoris as I suck her nipples and smile as she moves up and down, riding my digits.

Moving my mouth to the side of her neck, I lick and bite before I whisper to her, "You can cum whenever you want to, Henrietta."

Within minutes, she cums, grunting and jerking wildly on top of me. Before I can stop her, she slides off my legs and wriggles her hands free before she yanks my jeans down around my ankles. My balls still hurt a bit and I hadn't planned on actually having sex tonight, I'd just planned on fingering her and then leaving. But as luck would have it, Ms Insatiable has other ideas.

Henrietta strokes my balls gently and looks up at me, scowling. "What is this? Why are your bollocks bruised?" she asks, sounding displeased. "Have you had sex with someone else? Edward! Have you been fucking someone else at the weekend? I demand you tell me!"

Without answering her, I pull her up and suckle one of her dark nipples firmly, making her moan. I then bite down around it really hard, breaking the skin, just as she likes me to do.

"Tell me…" she mutters, as I move onto her other breast. Lying, I explain that I'd been horse riding in Hyde Park and had slipped and hurt myself on the saddle. After telling me that I need to be more careful and that she is disappointed because she wanted me inside her tonight, she carefully sucks my cock, and massages my prostate with two of her long, manicured fingers, until I cum in her throat.

"There's… nothing… nothing… to tell… to tell you…" I say, shrugging, as I fight to get my breath back.

"I know you're a liar, Cullen," she says, after I've cum. "I know you fuck around when you're in London but there's nothing I can really do about that. I would rather you didn't, but I can't stop you any more than you can make me monogamous when I'm out of the country. But I don't know why your balls are bruised. They look really sore. Tell me, darling, are you into something kinky? Oh… I do fucking hope so…"

I don't give a shit who she fucks. We always use condoms so I'm perfectly safe and if she doesn't know I'm kinky by now, she really needs to pay more attention to what we do to one another!

As I lay sprawled against the damp feeling leather chair, she smiles at me as she licks my cum off her lips. Smiling at her, I run my fingers through my sweaty hair, ignoring her question. "I have a present for us both," she says. Standing up and pulling her underwear off properly, she shoves the arousal wet crotch into my mouth, rendering me silent. "Don't move. Now it's MY turn to fuck you…"

Disappearing for a few moments, she returns carrying a pair of black PVC shorts and nothing else.

"This," she explains, "is my new strap on and I'm going to fuck your arse with it, baby." Walking closer, she holds them up for me to see after she yanks her knickers out of my mouth. "But these are special knickers, look," she says, grinning as she waves a tube of lube around.

Peering inside, my eyes widen when I see that not only is there a large black cock protruding out of the front of them, but there are two rigid dildos inside too. I bet Katy would love a pair of these!

"Fuck, where the hell did you get those from?" I ask, as she pulls me off the chair and tells me to kneel on the floor.

"Don't worry about that. I bought them just for us, no one else has never had the pleasure of the, I promise you. I buy new things all the time, and you would be shocked if you saw some of the equipment I have in my bedroom, darling. Now, stop talking and get me ready so that I can fuck myself whilst I fuck you, baby boy…" she moans, as she lies down on the rug and spreads her shapely legs wide apart.

I don't need telling twice. Popping open the lube that she's shoved into my hand, I lick and suck her pussy before I push one oily finger into her backside and slowly fuck her with it, as I circle it.

"Oh…" she moans as I suck her clit, "Just like… ah… curl… curl it… oh yes… you are good… sooooo good at fucking… mmmm… just like that… add another… add two more…"

I fuck her as she's asked me to and increase my speed as I suck her clit firmly. In hardly any time at all, she cums in my mouth, her muscles clenching madly around my intruding digits.

When she gets her breath back, I help her into her new knickers and she groans when both thick rubber dildos that I've covered in sticky lubricant, penetrate her for the first time. Shuddering as her body gets used to the burning stretch, she stares at me unseeing. "I could cum again… if I rock… oh God… like that… mmmm… yes… like… oh… just a little bit…" she mutters, not speaking to anyone in particular. "Edward… suck my nipples…" she says, as she shoves me against the sofa and straddles my leg. "Bite me… oh… God… make me… make me… cuuuuuuuummmm…" she moans as she rubs against me frantically.

It takes her hardly any time to cum and as I push her off me, I smile at her. "Kneel, Henrietta…" I mumble, as I lick down her body, biting and chewing her nipples and breasts firmly. "God you taste good… I want to eat you… open your legs… let me look at you… let me see how wet I can make you before I suck your cock…" I say. Without waiting for her to do as I ask, I yank her knees apart before I start lapping up the trail of sweat that leads to her belly button and I kneel between her spread thighs. Pushing the leg of her shorts up slightly, I shove my fingers inside and gather up some of her arousal before I lick it off my hand hungrily.

Staring up at her, I fight the urge to laugh as her eyes widen as I lick my lips and smile. Without saying a word, I open my mouth wide and take the rubber cock in and suck at it greedily, taking it all the way down my throat, making it bulge at the intrusion.

"Shit… you're a dirty… little fucker… you really are, Cullen," she grunts as she jerks forwards and I clutch the backs of her thighs tightly, yanking her towards me as I move my mouth up and down her appendage. "You've sucked… sucked cock… I fucking… fucking know you… oh God… have… I'd like… like to watch that… God…" she whimpers. "We're a match made… made in fucking heaven, baby… or should that… that be hell?" she whispers as she tugs my hair firmly, forcing the dildo to slide all the way down the back of my throat. "You were made for me… I've never known anyone who… who is as much of a deviant as I am in the bedroom… before… you must never fuck anyone… anyone but me… do you understand that? I want… want you to stop… stop fucking whoever you fuck… fuck in London… okay?"

In her dreams.

"I need to get you ready… I want to fuck you…" she says, as she pushes me backwards, pulling the now shiny dildo from my mouth. As I lay sprawled on the floor, she sucks my cock and gently licks my balls as she slides first one lube slicked digit into me. She then adds another one, and then another of her fingers inside my backside.

"Oh fuck…" I groan as she hooks her fingers and repeatedly slides over my swollen, sensitive prostate. "Just like… shit… I'll cum… keep rubbing… and… fuck it…"

"Not yet, big boy…" she mumbles, as she drags me to my feet. Bending me over the arm of her couch, she clenches my cheeks in her hands as she pushes them apart and presses the head of her rubber cock against my opening. Sliding slowly into me, I groan as my body burns at the stretch. It's about the same size as Carlisle's cock and he'd fucked me pretty brutally on Friday evening, so I'm still a little bit tender. "I love that you love anal sex…" she murmurs before she grabs my shoulders, arches me back and fucks me hard and fast in the arse. It's great and feels amazing to know that this passionate woman is pleasuring herself as she's pleasuring me. It isn't as good as the real thing but it's very enjoyable and I cum, spurting all over the leather seats and her antique rug after she cums for the sixth time, raking her ruby red nails so hard down my back and shoulders that I feel my skin tear under her touch. AGAIN!

Staggering into her bedroom, we both collapse onto her massive bed as she wrestles her way out of her PVC hot pants, kicking them across the room as she discards them. We're both so knackered that we don't even bother to have a shower and clean up, or even go for a pee as she wraps herself around me, naked and uncovered as we all fall asleep immediately.

Sometime during the night, I wake up and it's still dark. Rolling off of her, I wince when I have to peel the sheet off my scratched back. Henrietta is snoring softly, sprawled naked across the vast bed as I dress quietly. I let myself out of her flat, limping as I walk back to my rooms. Staggering into my rooms, I strip off as I drink a large bottle of water. I get my books and folders together for my next lecture as I hobble around. My arse really hurts now, as does my back, and don't start me off about my poor bollocks. After having a quick wash in my pathetic excuse for a shower, I dress in the Lycra all in one and tracksuit that I wear for rowing and head off to the gym in the still dark, drizzling and cold early morning.

The other guys snigger at the shadows under my eyes and rib me about having one night off from the Black Widow's clutches. Ignoring their laughter, I smile as I sit on the rowing machine, but flinch at the ache in my arse from where she pleasured herself inside me just a few hours earlier. I didn't exactly complain about her fucking me, in fact, I loved that she wanted to. Although I think that next time we should use thicker lube because that dildo was pretty big and she used it for a long time and friction burns of the back passage burn like a bitch.

"Is she worth the gossip?" Crispin asks, leaning in to whisper to me so that our team mates can't hear our conversation. He wraps his arm around my shoulders as we carry our oars to the river.

"What?" I ask, as I wave my oar around.

"The Black Widow, I mean? Is fucking her worth being the talk of the university?" he asks again, without any hint of spite. "The women hate her and all the men want her. It's a bit like you really. All the women, and gay men, want to fuck you and all the straight men are so jealous of you that they either want to punch you or befriend you! You're one lucky fucker, Cullen! So, is she a good fuck?"

"What do you think?" I ask, grinning at him as I take my place in the middle of the boat.

…..

The week passes quickly and my end of term report is even better than I had expected. I'm top of every class I take and every essay exceeds all predictions. Because of this, I'm fawned over more than ever by lecturers and class mates alike. I'm starting to realise that having a _pretty face,_ abig cock and being able to stand up and talk to anyone about any subject, without any kind of embarrassment is a Godsend in the career I've chosen. I've been invited to an evening soiree with the Dean and his family, and his oldest daughter seems quite taken with me. I make small talk with her as she holds a tray of canapés, but I'm not interested in her in any way, I've got quite enough to deal with right now, without even contemplating fucking around with the head of the College's seventeen year old daughter. Despite being sexually involved with Henrietta, I don't believe in shitting where you eat and messing around with her would not be sensible.

Clarissa had offered to accompany me but I lied and told her that no one was taking along a guest or even a significant other. In all honesty, I just didn't want her here because I knew that this was another important part of networking for me. If I want to study in France in the middle of my course, I need to show my face whenever required. Although Henrietta is here, she is suitably discreet and spends her evening chatting to the Dean's wife and other lecturers. I know we're being watched but we are hardly more than polite to one another and merely nod a cursory 'hello' as I arrive and nothing more. That is until I say my goodbye's and leave earlier than planned explaining that I'm working on a few private projects and need to get back to them. As pre-arranged, I walk slowly and five minutes later, Henrietta catches me up and tells me that she wants me to walk her back to her rooms. We take a detour. After she gives me a blow job behind a tree, I run my hands over her surprisingly covered breasts. I thought that her black wrap around dress is chaste and ladylike until she yanks it up, revealing that she's wearing no underwear and, dragging her by her arm, I pull her close. I tug and pull her hair as I finger her, before I fuck her on a gravestone in the local cemetery, unable to keep my cock under control any longer. Thank God I always carry condoms in my wallet in case the mood takes me.

…..

It's a great week all in all. I've spoken to Carlisle and Katy most days and things seem a little better between them. Well, at least Carlisle is sleeping on the sofa now because he hurt his back and left knee getting up and down off the concrete floor of the dungeon.

After my conversation with Annabelle, I've done quite a lot of thinking and have already decided that I want to continue with my training whilst I decide on whether or not they might just be right about me being more dominant than submissive. The thought that I might find dominance easier, and that it might help me to focus more, career wise, appeals to me greatly and is something that I need to think about carefully.

Carlisle is, of course, utterly delighted when I tell him that I want to return to them in January and that I will wear his collar as a sign of ownership. However, I implore him to make the collar as discreet as possible because I don't want to be the laughing stock of the rowing team if he dresses me up like some sort of pet-fucking-cat in a pretty little sparkly neck embellishment.

"You've made my husband a very happy man," Katy says, when she rings me the next day whilst Carlisle is in his clinic. "We'll ring you on Christmas day, love, but we head off to the airport on Boxing Day. So we won't be in touch again until about the fifteenth and will expect you to be waiting for us at the front door, at 5:00 pm on the sixteenth of January. Okay?"

"Yes," I say.

"Have a lovely time at the Christening and be as good as you are able to be," she says, laughing loudly.

Henrietta seems to be even keener on me after the night with the dildo's and when I give her a gift voucher for a high end sex shop, hidden inside a hand inked Christmas card, she ravages me on her desk before she climbs on top of me. Lying back on all the students' files as she rides me frantically, I watch her, fascinated, as she tugs and rolls one of her own nipples with one hand as her mouth droops open. She rubs and presses her clitoris with her other hand, whilst I hang onto the edges of her mahogany desk for grim death in case we both fall off. She seems oblivious to the dangers and fucks herself on my cock, screaming the place down as she cums in a seemingly never ending orgasmic fervour.

"May I suck your cock until you cum?" she asks, as she kneels before me, surprisingly submissive for her. Her hair is wet with sweat and her olive skin shimmers in the twilight of her study.

Who am I to refuse her?

Despite being on holiday, we will still have a heavy workload to tackle and whereas everyone else has been moaning and grumbling about this, I'm quite looking forward to it. For example, Henrietta's project is to choose an act of Parliament that has caused crime to happen in its wake, rather than actually improving the safety of the citizens it was designed to protect.

I've already decided that I'm going to write a paper on the Anatomy Act 1832 which allowed doctors to cut open and dissect donated bodies for medical study. These bodies were to be those of criminals who had been hung, but as you can imagine, there weren't enough to satisfy medical students. This had, unfortunately, led to the acts of murder and grave robbing made famous by Burke and Hare in Edinburgh. After their executions, grave robbers became known as Burkers in their infamy and their bodies were used, perversely, in an anatomy laboratory and are still to be seen in the Medical School in Edinburgh. The Act, provided for the needs of physicians, surgeons and students by giving them legal access to corpses that were unclaimed after death, in particular those who died in prison or the workhouse.

It's a dark subject and I know that Henrietta will just about cum in her underwear when she reads what I've chosen. Two of my other professors have set far more dusty subjects of the rights and wrongs of abortion and the removal of human tissue for study without the permission of the next of kin. I find it odd that at such a family orientated holiday, all three of them have chosen medical and ethical issues to write papers on.

I have a Chinese takeaway with Clarissa and Alina on Thursday evening and when I return to my rooms, Henrietta rings me to say that she's on her way over to give me my Christmas present. I'm expecting a blow job whilst she fingers my arse—she's suddenly obsessed with penetrating me any way she can—and am surprised when she turns up, naked under her fur coat and hands me a long slender, elegantly wrapped package that she insists I open. She gives me a beautiful silver fountain pen, inlaid with mother of pearl and jet that had belonged to her grandfather. Standing in the middle of my small rooms, she unwraps herself before she lets me fuck every orifice she has, repeatedly, and when she leaves me on Friday morning; she looks as knackered as I am. She's flying to France for Christmas to stay with an old lover and his boyfriend and says she will be in London just before New Year if I want to meet up with her. She's booked a room at the Savoy and gives me the number and says she wants to spend New Year's Eve with me, a tray of caviar, sour cream and blinis and a bottle of Krug before she fucks me senseless.

I just might take her up on her kind offer. Two weeks is a long time for me to last without sex and my own hand is no substitute for the real thing. Despite how voracious I am, sexually, I really don't want to go out and have random, passionate, frenetic and potentially dangerous intercourse with a stranger in a nightclub. My future career is much too important to me to do something as risky as that any more.

….

The drive to London is quite jolly and I had even agreed to put on the tape of Christmas music that Clarissa and Alina had made for me. Humming along to some crappy nineteen seventies song, I smile when I remember Clarissa's emotional goodbye to me, earlier today. She hugged and squeezed me so hard after she'd helped me pack my car, that she almost took my breath away.

"Clarissa," I said, flatly, "I'll be back in four weeks! It's not like you won't ever see me again!" I laughed as Alina joined in, sobbing and blowing her nose loudly on her sleeve.

"Neddy," she pouted, "I've given you a pile of pressies to open on Christmas day and you haven't given me anything. Not even a card!"

"Don't be silly, Clarissa," I said, kissing her on the cheek. "Your present will be waiting for you when you get home and your card is on your coffee table. Now let me go, you both have trains to catch and I have a date in London tonight so I need to leave now."

"A date?" Alina asked, scowling. "With who?"

"It's 'whom' not 'who,'" I said, smiling at Ali as I gave her a hug, "And I've got a date with a pint of Guinness and Jasper."

"Oh, yes… Jasper…" Alina said, wistfully. "He's so pretty… I love his blue eyes…"

"Well, as you both know, he plays in a band and he's got a gig in Camden tonight and I want to be there for him. We haven't seen one another much since I came up here." I said. "And his eyes are green, Clarissa."

"I like Jasper," Clarissa said, "If I wasn't with my Torqui…"

She's utterly delusional. Not in a million years would Jasper ever look at her in that way and in fact, I think he'd rather fuck Ali than her. She met Jasper when he came up the weekend before the disastrous one with the Hale's. Because I had spare time away from the lifestyle, I invited them up to show them around my new City. He travelled up with Rose and Emmett and they spent the Saturday with me, wandering around, taking pictures of the beautiful buildings and having a meal in a local Italian restaurant before Clarissa just _happened_ to appear in the pub and joined us for a 'swift half.'

Watching her in disbelief, she sidled up to Jazz and I fought not to laugh as her pupils dilated and tiny little beads of sweat dotted her upper lip as she stared at him, totally mesmerised and very obviously turned on. She was absolutely in awe of him and couldn't keep her eyes, or hands, off him.

Jasper, on the other hand, looked terrified by this mountain of a woman standing before him, and at one point I thought he was going to bolt out of the door. Emmett was almost peeing himself with laughter when, several pints of cider later, she launched herself at Jasper and it was one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Jasper isn't as tall as I am and is slender and sinuous. Clarissa, on the other hand, is almost my height and three times Jasper's width and they resembled Jack Spratt and his wife when they stood side by side. When she asked him what he did for a living and he told her that he was a singer and musician, she almost wet herself with excitement. Without warning, she sat on his knee, and as she bounced up and down, you couldn't see him at all and I've never seen Rosalie lost for words before. She almost choked up a lung as Clarissa started to tell her about her dress making abilities and insisted on pulling up her dress to show them her 'best' orange knickers that she'd made for herself before she offered to make a matching set for Rose.

Jasper was so pale when she told him that she wanted to dance with him, he looked translucent as she stared at him and licked her lips. Six pints of lager snake-bite, topped up with tequila shots, later, she slid down the bar and landed in a crumpled heap on the floor. Emmett picked her up, threw her over his shoulder and carried her home.

That night, Rose and Jasper slept in my bed with a line of pillows wedged down the middle between them, Em had the couch and I slept on a pile of cushions and a quilt on the floor. We were all pissed and although they all shared several joints, I declined and as I sat watching the three of them laughing and joking, it felt like I was being propelled back to Jasper's tree house and I realised then just how much I'd missed them all.

Sunday morning was interesting as we all tried to shower and dress in my minute rooms. I did sneak a look at Rose as she wandered around in a much too short bath towel and my nether regions twitched accordingly, as I looked at her long, shapely legs. But as we looked at one another and smiled, I wandered off to the kitchen and made coffee instead just as Clarissa arrived.

"Knock, knock!" she yelled, shoving her way passed Emmett carrying a bag containing bacon sandwiches as she all but ran across the room to get to a startled looking Jasper. "You must be hungry!" she shrieked as she thrust a large wedge of bread into his shaking fingers. "Have you got a girlfriend, Jasper?" she asked, "I have got a boyfriend… sadly. Oh, I mean, I love him and he's very lovely… but… well… maybe we could all meet up in London sometime? Or I could leave Torqi in Scotland and travel down with Neddy one weekend? Does he spend his weekends with you all?" she asked around a semi-masticated mouthful of bacon and tomato ketchup. "I often wonder what he gets up to in London. Sometimes he looks as if he's been in a fight when he comes back on a Sunday or Monday."

"Fighting?" Rosalie snorts. "Edward? Don't be so silly, Clarissa. He's too busy shagging his way around London to ever get that beautiful jaw line damaged by someone's fist. No one wants to hurt him. They all want to fuck him! Who are you fucking now?" she said, grinning at me as I scowled at her.

"Yes, well, I know he has terrible taste in women," Clarissa sniffs indignantly. "Do they know about you and the spidery one?"

Shit.

"Shut the hell up, Clarissa." I said, scowling at her.

"The spidery one?" Rosalie asked, "Is that some skanky bitch you've picked up in a nightclub, Edward?"

"No," Clarissa said, reaching over to wipe a bit of ketchup from Jasper's chin with her finger. "She's one of his lecturers."

"You're having a relationship with a lecturer?" Rose asked, sounding shocked.

"I'm not having a fucking relationship with ANYONE!" I bark out, throwing the sandwich back on the plate. "Will you all stop fucking interfering!"

"You're shagging your teacher?" Emmett asks, smiling. As I nod and grin back at him, he punches me on the arm. "Way to go, lad!"

"Do you spend all your time fucking her, Edward? Or are you still seeing that Annabelle as well?" Emmett asked.

"No he spends his time with Carl…" Jasper started. He soon shuts up when I glower at him.

"Carl?" Rosalie asked as she pours the coffee. "Who's Carl?"

"Just someone from school," I lied. "And I'm not having a relationship with Anna, she's simply a friend who I like spending time with. Wait until you meet her, Jazz. You'll really like her, she's good fun."

….

The next week flies by and it feels odd to be in my large flat on my own. I spend a lot of time staring out of the window in between doing my various projects for university. I also find myself staring at my mother's decorations and wondering what she would think of the life I've chosen for myself. I doubt very much that she would approve of my participation in the world of BDSM, but I hope she would find my chosen career, one that she could be proud of.

Oddly, I miss Clarissa and even her hanger-on, Ali. I ring them both most days and laugh when Clarissa tells me that Torquil has been spending quite a bit of time in a bothy high up in the hills with one of the young gamekeepers. She says they're trying to ensure that there is plenty of meat for the Christmas table, but I just bet that Torquil is getting meat of a different kind every time Clarissa heads down south again…

She asks about my cake and when I tell her that it's sitting, having pride of place, on my dining table, she's thrilled.

It is.

It is, unsurprisingly, the most ridiculous, lurid thing I've ever seen and is truly a sight to behold. The icing is a peculiar shade of lime green decorated with what is meant to be mini poinsettia's, but that do, in fact, look more like blobs of red cotton wall balls. There is a large, boss eyes, three legged plastic reindeer on the top of it with a small metal bucket filled with small chocolate Easter eggs. She believes in recycling. It weighs an absolute tonne and I'm surprised that my table doesn't bow under it. Annabelle said that it looked like someone had made this as a bet and that I should post pictures of it on the net. I wouldn't be that cruel but to be honest, I don't know what the hell to do with it because I saw the amount of nuts, fruit and oatmeal—yes, porridge oats—that she had stuffed inside of it and I doubt my teeth will survive if I try to eat any of it.

She says that her presents and card have arrived and that she's 'frightfully excited, darling,' because she hasn't got anything else under the tree apart from a stocking filled with bits and bobs from Alina. She says her father has given her the left back leg of his latest race horse as a gift, and that Torquil hasn't had time to go shopping yet but she's hoping he will take her to the sales after Christmas day. He's such a nasty, mean and tight bastard.

At the end of the first week, I go and have afternoon tea with Peregrine Johannsen in his rooms in Jockey's Fields. As he serves me fruit cake and Earl Grey tea, he drops his napkin and just happens to let his fingers trail along my knee. I don't push him away nor do I encourage him and we spend several most enjoyable hours discussing some of his cases and my plans for taking the Tripos examination. He is an ex-Cambridge student too and says that he will do everything he can to help me and advise me. In between giving me suggestions on books to buy and courts to visit, he makes very obvious passes at me. He tells me how easy it is to be gay in the legal world as long as you're discreet at all times, and how many an intern has given him blow jobs in his private bathroom. He indicates that it's just behind us and offers to show the antique brass taps to me, and says that I can polish them if I want to. I'm not entirely sure he means the taps and not his cock so I say thank you, but no, although maybe some other time.

Annabelle drags me to Fortnum and Masen for afternoon tea before we go to the theatre to watch a Christmas Carol, and although I really try to hate it, I have a great day.

Christmas Eve dawns crisp, cold and startlingly bright. All the colour seems to have been leached out of the skyline and the Thames is a murky greyish brown in the weak winter sunlight. Drinking a cup of coffee on the balcony, I watch the empty, gaudily lit, wreath and holly decorated pleasure boats moving up and down the river before I have a hot shower, shave and start getting dressed.

Standing in front of the mirror, I finish doing up my tie before I pull my jacket on and brush it down with a lint roller. I've already shaved my 'pretty face' and added a bit of cologne and wince as I stare back at my reflection. My fucking hair is nuts again but at least I smell nice.

This was all thanks to Annabelle. She had taken me out shopping the day before, as usual, and we'd gone to Penhaligan's. She'd made an appointment for us both to have specially made fragrances developed just for us as a Christmas gift. I had turned my nose up at the idea at first. I mean, come on! I'm a bloke! I can sling on a bit of any old crap from a bottle and no one cares, but that all changed after the perfumier had worked his magic. I have to admit; I was very impressed and promptly ordered another two bottles of the three hundred and fifty pound elixir. I wanted one for in my flat, one for in the Highgate house and one to take home with me to Cambridge. I've decided that in the spring, I will put my flat up for sale and move back to my ancestral home. It isn't exactly a family home because I've never had a family there, but it seems a huge waste that my estate is running two homes and although I like to spend money, I don't like to waste it.

Penhaligan's fascinated me. I bought shaving oil, face and nail cream and even oils for my bath as I watched, amazed as the man mixed a bit from one bottle and a little bit more from another one. He did this several times and his hands moved so fast as he tipped and shook and mixed, that I could hardly see what he was doing. Strangely, when he was finished and he put a tiny sample on a slender wooden stick, his concoction of odd sounding and even more peculiar smelling oils, herbs, resins and extracts smelled like me, but just a more concentrated, sweet smelling version.

I had no fucking idea how he'd done it but I loved the final product and it was an odd feeling to see Anna's reaction to the scent. Her pupils dilated and she licked her lips. She held the sample to her nose and inhaled deeply, just as she did every time I went down on her in the dungeon. "I like this… it smells just like you… but more so…" she murmured as her hand slid up my jean covered knee towards my thigh before she remembered where she was and recomposed herself.

"It is a very lovely scent, Sir," the assistant said, as he packaged my oily cologne into an elaborate, old fashioned stoppered bottle and put it into a box. He then repeated his actions with the other two bottles and put them in one of Penhaligan's distinctive rope handled paper bags. Anna's scent was equally as lovely, but slightly more flowery after she'd asked for extra essence of violets along with jonquil's and roses to be added to her final product.

I'd spent a fortune that day. I'd bought Anna a handbag that she'd liked in Mulberry and when she couldn't decide which colour she wanted, umming and ahing between the scarlet one and the shiny black one, I told her to take both with the matching purses, key fobs and an address book. When we went into Liberty, we laughed at the new range of waterfowl patterned bath sheets and flannels they had in stock, and I had to buy them for Katy along with a silver ink blotter for Carlisle's desk. I know I'd already purchased their gifts and they'd already been delivered, but I couldn't resist buying these two and when I saw a whole range of rubber ducks dressed in everything from ball gowns to BDSM outfits, I had to add those to Katy's bag of goodies.

Annabelle had been like a whirling dervish in the overheated, noisy and insanely crowded shops as I sat outside changing room after changing room as she tried on countless outfits. And it was at times like those that I'm hugely grateful that Clarissa makes her own fucking clothes and doesn't want to do this too, and that thankfully Henrietta doesn't need me to accompany her either.

Fiddling with my hair as I attempt to tame it a bit with some poncy sounding wax from the ridiculously expensive hair salon that Annabelle had insisted on taking me to yesterday, I sigh and give up. It had behaved when it was yanked into shape with product after product in the hot salon and the effeminate hair dresser had enthused over my beautiful copper 'locks,' but today? Nope. Today it's even crazier than ever, laying every way but flat and it looks more ginger than bronze now it's much shorter and I bear more than a passing resemblance to Krusty the fucking Clown!

Scowling at it, I sigh and shrug my shoulders, giving up as I fiddle with my black tie once more.

"You do know you looking fucking amazing in that outfit, don't you, numb nuts?" a voice says from behind me. Turning around, I smile. Annabelle is standing with her hands on her hips, grinning at me. "I'll be surprised if Riley and Jace can keep their hands off you in front of the alter, despite you ending that part of your friendship. You look so fucking hot that I might just jump your bones myself in a minute! Christ but you're too fucking good looking for your own good, Edward! It really isn't very fair on the rest of the male population you know!" she laughs. "When you're in court, you do know that the poor fucker you're trying will yell _'I'm guilty M'lud!'_ just so you will walk closer to them!"

"Shut up!" I laugh, as I look at her, smiling. "You're a silly cow sometimes! You do talk utter shit!"

"It's true! Christ, every man and woman looked at you as if they wanted to be you or to fuck you yesterday, and most of the time, you don't even notice!" she says.

She's talking shit but I love it when she's in a playful mood.

"Do you think we have time for you to make me cum quickly before we leave?" she continues, as I look her up and down. "Are you wearing your cologne? Please tell me you aren't, Eddie, I won't survive being in the car with you if you smell and look like that! I'll have to masturbate all the way to Windsor and we might just get arrested. Hey! We'll just ask the police officers to join us!" she giggles.

She looks really lovely and has her long red hair pulled up into a high pony tail and for once, she's actually wearing quite a lot of make-up and it makes her already huge eyes look even bigger and her lips look fuller and almost irresistible. Part of me is grateful that she doesn't do this very often because we'd be permanently whipped for being insubordinate and for getting caught fucking on Carlisle and Katy's doorstep on a Friday evening.

"Your eyes look great," I say.

"I should make more of an effort really for our weekends together, don't you think? Carlisle and Katy deserve better, I guess… and so do you… you always look amazing, I suppose it's time to ditch my hippy chic look. Don't you agree?" she says, pouting as she looks down at her manicured nails.

"You always look smashing, Annabelle," I say, "And you don't need to wear make-up before a scene with me. Not unless we're going to a party, obviously."

There isn't much point when we're playing and Katy would rather she didn't unless, like I said, we were attending a play party. It disappears as it sweats off and ends up smeared all over the rest of us, but she really does scrub up very nicely indeed and it isn't any wonder that she gets admiring glances wherever we go.

Rosalie had been a little bit off with her when they'd met a few weekends ago for the first time. We bumped into her in Harvey Nichols and she was far from friendly to poor Anna. Since then, she's said that she thinks that we're an 'item' and refused to believe me when I said that she couldn't be more wrong. I don't know why she's pissed off, she's fucking some massively wealthy chinless wonder Banker that she met via Emmett and Jasper and is spending Christmas with him in a chalet in the middle of somewhere in the wilds of Canada, much to her parents sadness. They rang me on Monday, apologising for not contacting me earlier but they explained that they were snowed under with new authors. Anyway, we've all been invited to go to Esme and Peter's, even Annabelle, and as long as Carlisle and Katy agree to let her go there for the holidays, she's told me that she'd love to join us. It's probably for the best that Rose won't be around.

Turning back to face the mirror, I yank my tie to make it straight before I attach a platinum tie pin that I found amongst my mother's possessions. It was in the safe deposit box that I was given when I reached eighteen. It's completely plain and very simple with a tiny engraving of a stylised lotus flower made by Archibald Knox in the late eighteen hundreds and oddly, it came from Liberty.

"Fuck… Edward…" Annabelle says, as I fasten my new silver coloured watch around my left wrist. "You really do look wonderful today…"

"You don't look too shabby yourself," I laugh, "maybe we could forget that we have a Dominant and Dominatrix and you could just let me fuck you before we leave?" I ask, raising my eyebrow. "Or perhaps you could leave a lipstick mark on my cock? You've never done that before!" I snigger, as I dodge her slapping hands.

"I don't look that great…" she mutters, looking down. "My boobs are so fucking small… I think I'm going to have them enlarged…" she says, pursing her lips as she pushes her breasts together, forming barely a crease, let alone a cleavage.

"Stop being silly!" I reply. "Don't you dare do that to yourself! You have great boobs and that fabric makes your tits look much bigger," I say, honestly, "And I can see your nipples… go on… pull your top down and let me suck them… be nice… you have wonderful little nipples… I love sucking them… they always respond to my lips… and tongue… and teeth… I like stroking them with my cock too… come on… Anna… do it…" I please, walking towards her with my hands outstretched and open. "I won't get near you again for weeks and my cock is so hard it hurts. Go on, Anna, they'll never know…"

"Don't tempt me!" she laughs, as she walks closer to me, stopping when I put my hands on her shoulders.

"You really do look great, Anna," I say, looking her up and down. She's wearing a dark blue dress that stops on her knee. It's skin tight and makes her look really shapely and she's wearing dark tights and high heeled shoes.

"Why thank you, kind sir!" she chuckles, mock curtsying to me. "Come on, we've got to get out to Windsor by twelve and it's starting to snow again. And if you start talking about fucking my tits, we'll never get there!"

Bundling herself up in a thick heavy coat, I watch as she deftly wraps a scarf around her neck and pulls some leather gloves on, all in a dark shade of blue, as I follow suit. I pull on a knee length, black wool coat and tie a scarf around my neck before I pick up an overnight bag and several bags filled with gifts for Mistral and his parents as well as Clarissa's hand-made presents.

"Come on, let's get going," I say, as she pulls her tiny case on wheels behind her and we pack everything inside the boot of my car.

"It looks so pretty when it snows, doesn't it, Eddie?" she asks, as she rubs her hands together trying to warm her fingers as I turn the heating on inside my car.

"Yes, it does. I wish we didn't have to drive back on Christmas morning. We'll have to come back here before we head off to the Masen's," I explain. "Esme loves champagne and I've bought a few bottles to take with us as well as a few presents for at the table. Did you get them anything to say thank you for inviting you?"

"Yes," she says, "I bought some wine, chocolates and a voucher from David Austin so she can buy some roses for her garden. Do you think she'll like that?"

"What a thoughtful present," I say, smiling at her as we drive off into the crowded streets of South London.

…..

Standing at the door of the Chapel, I smile at a surprisingly conservatively attired Jace and Riley as they walk up the ancient York Stone path towards me and Annabelle. Jace grins at me and sashays her newly ample hips as she approaches and I grin at her burgeoning belly.

"Hey, handsome. You look gorgeous today! Hi, Anna! I'm so glad you came along with Edward for today."

"Hello, Jace," I say, leaning forwards to kiss her on the cheek. "You look lovely," I continue, as I reach down and pat her tummy. "You're blooming again! How many have you got in there? You're massive already! Shit, Jace! Are you trying to repopulate rural Ireland single handed?"

"Only one, and don't be silly, I'm a mother of almost two, I don't look lovely!" she says, fluttering her eyelashes at me. "I smell of milk and puke. I have bags under my eyes. I look knackered, not lovely."

She does. She looks utterly beautiful and my treacherous cock twitches as it remembers how wonderful it used to feel when it was enveloped inside her hot, velvety tightness.

Grinning, I roll my neck in a futile bid to stop my highly inappropriate thoughts from corrupting the innocent air of the chapel grounds.

She's wearing a skin tight, emerald green knitted dress that stops mid-thigh and shows red fish net stockings, along with knee length, bright red, high heeled boots. Her hair is an even brighter crimson than usual and she's wearing lipstick and nail varnish of a similar shade. The top of her dress is reasonably low and her large breasts are pushed up. As I said, her baby belly is already showing and she has Mistral balanced precariously on her hip as he stares around him. He's definitely his father's son as he clutches onto his mother's impressive tit with one hand and sucks the thumb of his other. His huge eyes miss nothing and little tufts of red hair poke out from the edge of his hat. He's dressed in a pale ivory, heavily embroidered and pearl encrusted full length christening gown with a matching cap that's tied under his chin. The poor little fucker looks like something from an old painting and grinning, I hold my arms out to him. Without any hesitation, he lets go of Jacinta and clings to me.

"Hello, baby boy," I whisper, as I kiss his forehead below the most stupid hat I've ever seen. "How is Uncle Eddie's best boy?" I nuzzle his cheek with my nose and kiss him on the tip of it. He smells lovely. Clean, sweet and almost powdery and his skin is so soft that I can't stop kissing it. "I missed you… I'm coming to Ireland at the end of January to see you. Would you like that?" I continue, "We can walk by the sea, just the two of us. Would that be nice? I've got some presents for you… I'll give them to mummy and daddy later." I finish, cuddling him tightly. I love having him in my arms. It never fails to amaze me that he fits perfectly in the crook of my arm and I don't want to hand him over as he snuggles into my neck.

"Oh, God," Anna groans, "you're disgusting! Don't you dare start going gaga over kids, Eddie! Looking the way you do, and cooing at a baby, every girl in there," she says, gesturing to the stone building by jerking her chin towards it, "Not to mention most of the men as well, are going to want to fuck your brains out before the service is over!"

"Don't you dare swear in front of my Godson!" I gasp out and all three of them chuckle at my response. "He can't understand you yet, but in a few months he will start trying to emulate you, Anna, pack it in!"

Riley and Jacinta laugh loudly as they shake their heads. "You're as pathetic about this baby as everyone else is," Jacinta laughs, "I just hope everyone feels the same about pickle two!" she says, patting her bump.

Douglas almost breaks a testicle in a futile bid to get to me as I enter the church. He's dressed similarly to me and looks very handsome. His blond hair has been cut much shorter and he's even more stocky and muscular than the last time I saw him. I grin as he hugs me tightly. A few murmurs echo around the chapel as he kisses me on my cheek and allows his lips to linger a little longer than is decent in company.

"You look like you're on steroids!" I say, laughing, pulling away from him. "What the hell have you been doing to yourself? Christ, Doug, I've bulked out because of my rowing but you look like you're wearing a padded body suit!"

"I don't need steroids when you're around, Edward," he says, squeezing my shoulder, "I'm always pumped up when you're around…"

"Behave," I say, shoving him in the chest, "Where's lover boy?" I ask, scanning the church for the tall, beautiful black police sergeant he's been living with for the last six months.

"We split up. He went back to his wife," he says, pouting. "So I'm all yours again, Edward…" he whispers, smiling sweetly at me.

Sighing, I shake my head and ignore his silliness. "Douglas, this is Annabelle," I say to him, and as he looks her up and down, he gives her a withering look before he turns his back on her, almost knocking her over as he folds his arms dramatically.

"So, Edward, you have a girlfriend, do you?" he asks, coldly. "No wonder you don't want to continue our arrangement… I always knew that you'd conform in the end," he huffs, disparagingly.

"No," Annabelle says, before I can comment, lowering her voice to a whisper, _"I'm just his fuck buddy."_

The look on Douglas's face is priceless as Anna takes my hand, kisses me gently on the lips, and leads me to the front to sit with the other Godparents. I can't help but laugh loudly at the expression on Douglas's face.

Moyra, Mistral's Godmother, makes every hippy I've ever seen, look shy, retiring and conservatively dressed. In fact, Clarissa looks positively staid in comparison. She has a ring of greenery in her hair. There's a veritable cornucopia of holly, ivy, mistletoe and rosemary wound around her shocking lavender tresses and she's wearing a full-length, floaty dress covered in silver stars. She has so many strings of multi coloured love beads around her neck that when she walks near you, she renders all conversation impossible as they jiggle and jangle. She's wafting several foul smelling joss sticks around to rid the space of "evil miasma's" and Jace's dad keeps looking at her because this isn't really in keeping with the conservative, upcoming, very prestigious, religious service.

Despite the oddities amongst the congregation, and the Godparent's—frankly—the ceremony is lovely with the chapel swagged and swathed in festive greenery. The choristers sound wonderful in this ancient building as they sing Thomas Tallis's Spem in Alium. This is one of my favourite pieces of music and I nod at Riley as he smiles at me. He told me that I would love their choice of music for the service. We sing _'Jerusalem,'_ '_I vow to thee my Country,_' and '_All things bright and beautiful,_' before the ceremony begins.

Everyone is happy and smiling throughout and Riley looks stunning as he gazes at his wife and his child. Once in a while our eyes lock and he grins at me a little bit too lasciviously considering we're in God's house, but I can't resist and grin right back. Jacinta's father is a large, booming, jolly man who is obviously thrilled with his grandchild. He bends to kiss him repeatedly as he anoints his head with holy water and the baby clutches the edge of his grandfather's elaborately embroidered robes as he stares intently at him. It's actually very sweet to see.

Mistral behaves like an angel and when they name him, and my first name is mentioned in the midst of his sobriquet, I have to be honest, I almost cry. He stares at me intently as I hold the candle up at the chaplain's instruction. My heart swells with the same feeling I had the first time I held him. Maybe Anna is right, this is what love feels like and I will only ever be able to feel this for Mistral. He's a lovely baby and I will never be able to thank Jace and Riley enough for allowing me to be part of his life.

Jacinta's mother is positively beaming as she takes Mistral from my arms and coos at him. He instantly screams the place down and Jace rushes up and after plucking him from her mother's clutches, she cuddles him to her large, pale, vein covered breast. Her poor parents look mortified as she yanks the top of her dress down to feed him whilst we're still in the chapel. Her father all but runs us out and refuses to look at her. I've never understood people being embarrassed about women feeding their babies but I guess they come from a different generation.

As soon as he's finished, Mistral looks at me again and smiling, I take him from his mother's arms and kiss his cheek. I wipe the opaque liquid from his lips with my handkerchief and put his head on my shoulder, rocking him. It never fails to amaze me that he fits so perfectly into my arms and settles there effortlessly.

Jace wraps her arm around my waist and presses her body against mine. "_I'm surprised you resisted licking my milk from his lips, sweetie…"_ she whispers. _"Don't you miss my body? You'd love my tits now… they're so much bigger and Riley loves the way the milk seeps out when I cum… come and play with us, Edward. We miss you… Don't you miss my husband's body just as much as he misses yours? I want you… you can do anything—and I do mean absolutely anything, baby—to my body tonight…"_

"Don't start…" I mumble at her, just as her father stares at me and scowls. "It isn't happening ever again, Jace, and your fucking father is watching us. Pack it in!"

Great, her parents are glaring at us and I know that they've always suspected that the three of us were more than just friends. Ignoring him, I begin rubbing Mistral's back as I talk to Anna, and just as he lets out a massive burp, I hear a gasp from behind me and a horrible, acidic smell. Yep. Inadvertently, I'd been winding him and he's puked all the way down the back of my horribly expensive, brand new suit.

Riley rubs me down with a muslin and some holy water that he's grabbed, inappropriately, from the font but it's all to no avail. Baby sick, as I've now discovered to my hand-made suit's detriment, sticks like glue and _stinks._

"I can't stay dressed like this," I say to Riley as I hand the baby to him, "I've got some jeans and a sweatshirt in the car, I'll go and change."

The chaplain reluctantly allows me to change in his robing room after telling me how inappropriate it will be for the Godfather to be dressed so casually in such an auspicious building. I ignore him and as I start to undress, he quickly leaves me alone. I'm not alone for long, when Riley decides to join me for a chat. Luckily, there's a sink and toilet in there and I clean myself up.

"You look tired, Riley," I say, as I use some toilet paper to wash myself down. "Are you working too hard?"

"Work I can handle," he sighs, sitting down heavily on a discarded pew. "Fucking Jacinta six times a day and filming her with Christ knows how many others, is killing me," he grumbles.

"Are you jealous?" I ask, scowling at him. I put some more cologne on to disguise the lingering odour of eau de Mistral and milk, and yank on a pair of black jeans, a black t-shirt and a charcoal grey hoodie. "That's not like you. You're usually quite happy sharing her."

"No, of course I'm not fucking jealous," he sighs. "It's just having sex for up to eight hours a day whilst running a business and looking after a baby is taking its toll on me, Edward. I'm not a young man anymore. Thank fuck that her and Moyra have taken to fucking one another using a double ended dildo whilst I sit in a corner and work or take the baby out for a very long stroll by the sea. At least we're down to five or six fucks a day now. It's eased off a little bit."

"Shit…" I say, looking at him. "I think I'd even struggle keeping up with that kind of regime!" I chuckle.

"No you wouldn't, you're a randy little fucker with the stamina of a race horse," he laughs, hitting me on the back.

We have a sit down luncheon in the large room off the chapel afterwards and it's equally as well decorated with a huge tree lit with hundreds of little lights. Riley almost chokes himself to death when he sees the gifts that Clarissa has sent for them, but they dutifully have pictures taken with the baby wrapped in his shawl. The entire place collapses in hysterical laughter when Jace puts on her shorts and beret, still with her dress on, and I put on my cardigan. By this point, I'm slightly pissed despite only having one flute of champagne, so I don't really care that the three of us look like hippies on some sort of pilgrimage. Having not eaten a great deal means that the alcohol has gone straight to my head and I feel a tad dizzy.

They love the presents I've chosen for Mistral and are fascinated by the history of the quaich. When I explain that it used to be used for whiskey tasting, Jace's father forgets his dislike of me and joins in the conversation saying that he will happily initiate the silver dish when he pulls a hip flask full of the water of life out from beneath his cassock. When all the other gifts are opened, I slip the envelope into Riley's hand and they are both shocked at the amount of money that I've put in his trust fund. "That will pay for his school fees, or university. I think he should go to Eton. Don't you?" I ask. They both look a little doubtful, but nod anyway.

"It wouldn't be fair if he went and the next one couldn't, Edward," Jacinta says, "we'll have to see how we manage, financially. We aren't doing badly but Eton isn't cheap and my dad would have retired by then. And anyway, we might choose to home school our children," she says, grinning broadly at a suddenly very pale Riley.

"Don't worry about that," I say, dismissively, "I wouldn't do it for one and not the others."

"Others?" Riley says, looking nervous, "What the hell do you mean by 'others,' Jacinta? We won't be having any more after number two! I'm knackered as it is and that's just looking after your physical needs and our baby's newly found _'no sleep after nine o'clock at night but I'll sleep all morning when you're running about like a blue arsed fly with bags under your eyes,'_ routine!" he laughs.

"We aren't stopping after pickle number two is born, Riley, I can promise you that!" Jacinta laughs. "I love being pregnant! You know I do… I'm hornier than ever when I'm pregnant… you know that, baby…" she says, stroking his arm. "Please, I want lots of beautiful babies with you… please… and I want you now… I need you, now…"

"If you get any more fucking insatiable," Riley says, scowling at her, "_I'll be dead by the time I'm fifty! You were like an animal last night, Jace,"_ he whispers, _"I thought I was having a stroke when you rode my face! I couldn't breathe and the gouges on my shoulders were still bleeding when I got dressed this morning. You've got to calm it down a bit, really, I would like to see my kids grow up you know! I'm going to book myself in for a vasectomy, Jacinta. I mean it."_

"If you do that, I'll just collect your spunk over the next few months and store it in the freezer. I'll have more of your babies one way or another, you know I will, Riley. Don't even think about saying no to me. I always win! I'll let you off on a couple of sex sessions each week, but don't deprive me of this. Please, baby…"

They mumble at one another and I ignore them. As everyone else eats, I sit, picking at my food, cuddling my Godson as he sleeps. His fingers are curled around one of mine and his lips are pursed. At one point, he screws up his face and rubs his tiny fist over his nose, before he relaxes and starts his slow, deep, steady breathing once more. He's so lovely.

All in all, it's a really wonderful day and at the end, we all traipse back to a local hotel, '_The Boatman._' Riley, Jace and Mistral are staying with her parents though they both whisper to me at different times that they could sneak away in the night and leave Mistral with his grandparents, if I was 'up for it.' Douglas almost cums on the spot in excitement as he waits for my answer. He huffs and stalks off across the room when I say 'thanks, but no thanks.'

They are both equally as disappointed when I decline, but say they understand. Even though I've only had one glass of champagne, and now I've sobered up again, I decide against driving and instead collect our bags from the car and walk to the hotel. It isn't much fun, to be honest. Douglas tags along beside us and looking at him, I wonder what I ever saw in him. I didn't love him, obviously, but I did fancy him for a while. Now, he just irritates me and I know that I made the right judgement call as far as he was concerned. He insists on holding hands with me, despite me telling him to fuck off, using the excuse that he's too drunk too to walk safely unaided, whilst Annabelle happily skips and twirls, slipping on the icy pavements as she does so, whilst singing Christmas carols to the completely wrong tune and making me laugh.

After we've dropped our coats and belongings in our room, we head downstairs. It's like a grope fest when we sit in the small bar, drinking mulled wine, as we try to thaw ourselves out by the roaring fire. Jace and Riley's friends are certainly an interesting bunch and when they start to strip off on the rug by the fire, I tell Anna that it's time to go to bed, whilst I try to extricate myself from Douglas's wandering hands.

I was massively grateful to Anna for booking us a twin room to share, and it's a good thing she did, because Douglas keeps trying to get in to me. He's pissed and won't take no for an answer, even offering to suck my cock whilst Anna sits on my face. She's had one glass of champers too many, as well as wine, an aperitif and several cocktails, and seriously considers Douglas's plan before I tuck her into bed and tell her not to be so silly.

The morning dawns far too quickly for my liking. I didn't get much sleep because Anna sang and snored all night and decided in the middle of the night to get into bed with me. She tried to give me a hand job and my traitorous cock had hardened at her familiar touch. When I shrugged her off, she'd used my upper thigh to rub against. Wrapping her legs tightly around mine, she'd masturbated, coming loudly, before she passed out again and I was left with a stonking hard on that I had to sneak into the bathroom to take care of.

Sneaking out of Annabelle's clutches so that I can have a shower, I get dressed in last night's replacement clothes and head downstairs. I'm sitting down to bacon and eggs, in the small, snug, cosy dining room, and writing notes in the margin of one of my notebooks. Trying to ignore the tinny, generic Christmas music that's playing, I concentrate hard on re-reading the scribbles I'd made the day before. Looking up, as she walks in, I laugh. She's scowling and looking far less glamorous than she did the day before as she shuffles towards my table.

"I've got a headache, Eddie," she mumbles. Then she orders a pot of espresso, glowering at the festively bedecked waitress as she does so, and tries to calm her insanely tangled hair. "What time are we expected at your friends' house?" she huffs, and I laugh at the way she looks. "That waitress looks like a fucking reject from Harry Potter."

"Huh," I say, grinning at her. "You can talk!"

Her jumper is too big and looks like a baggy, over stretched dress over her skinny jeans. She looks like a bad tempered young child and with her glasses perched on the end of her nose and her pink scrubbed, make-up free face, she looks very innocent, but foul tempered. Obviously the innocent demeanour is utter crap, but somehow, despite the fact that I've fucked her six ways to Sunday in the past, she somehow manages to look chaste.

"You look like shit, Anna!" I say, shaking my head, "You're a lousy drinker, just like me, you should have stuck to orange juice!"

"Fuck off, Eddie," she grumbles. "Did you fuck me last night? I vaguely remember cumming. Was I dreaming or did you go down on me?" she asks just as the waitress places another rack of toast on our table and knocks over a jug of milk as she does so.

"You did cum," I say around a mouthful of toast, ignoring the frantically blushing waitress as she uses her napkin to mop up the milk before she mutters that she'll get us some fresh milk. "But it wasn't anything to do with me. You used my thigh to get yourself off! Don't you remember? You were like some sort of Duracell bunny on speed! You wouldn't stop, even when I pinched you! You almost rubbed the hairs off my leg!"

"Piss off," she says, frowning at me as she pours her first coffee. "Why didn't you fuck me? And you know I like to be pinched! Why would you do that if you didn't want to encourage me? Huh?"

"I didn't fuck you because we've promised not to touch one another. You broke that rule, I didn't and anyway, you were so pissed, it would have been like fucking a draft excluder. The second you came, you went back to snoring and grinding your teeth. You're going to make some man a marvellous wife, one day. It's like sleeping with a combination of a chainsaw and a strimmer!" I snigger, as she smacks the back of my hand with the red hot tea spoon she'd just been stirring her cup with. "Fucking hell!" I gasp out, frantically rubbing the burn. "That fucking hurt! What the hell's the matter with you?"

"Stop being a wanker and teasing me, just shut up, tell me when we're expected at the Masen's and let me drink my frigging coffee in silence! And will someone turn that awful music off! NOW!" she demands.

"Three o'clock," I say, as I help myself to some marmalade and spread it on my toast. "We'll head back to my flat when you've eaten so that we can open our presents before we drive over. I won't be drinking today and I want to drive home tonight. I don't want to stay there. I want to get back so that I can start on my project tomorrow morning."

"Jesus, Edward," she says, flopping back in the thickly padded seat. "Don't you EVER take a day off from studying?"

"Nope. I love my course and have no desire to waste time," I explain, as I sip my coffee.

"How can you eat that shit?" she asks as I shovel a grilled sausage down my throat.

"Because," I say, cutting up my poached egg, "I only had one glass of champagne last night, you got hammered," I finish, shutting her up. "And since when didn't you like sausages? You like to play 'hide the sausage' with my cock, and Carlisle's, whenever you can, so shut up!" I chuckle as this time the waitress drops a pot of jam as she listens in to our conversation, and I think it's best to stop talking.

As such, the rest of my meal is spent in relative silence. Annabelle asks the waitress for a couple of painkillers and lays her head on the table with her dark charcoal linen napkin draped over her head, sleeping.

Packing the car quickly, I shiver in the early morning fog. Thank goodness I left the heating on in my flat because the outside of the car windows are covered in elaborate frosted patterns. The air is so frigid that my breath hangs like small clouds in front of me.

The journey back to London is far quicker because the roads are totally empty and luckily the gritters have been out overnight, scattering salt and ensuring safe passage for us all. Annabelle snores in her seat beside me, wrapped in a blanket, dribbling and jabbering incoherently, and when we arrive, she's grumpy and grouchy as we carry our bags up to my flat.

"You shouldn't have drunk so much last night," I chuckle, as I shove across the threshold. "You need to get cleaned up and drink some coffee. Christmas at the Masen's is always noisy and busy, you can't sit in a corner looking like you're sucking a lemon!"

"Bastard…" she mutters, as I shove her in the shower.

I make a pot of coffee and do a little bit of work at the computer as I wait for her to finish. Eventually, an hour later, she reappears wearing a tight, short, pink fluffy jumper, a pair of black fitted trousers and flat black ballet flats. Her bright scarlet, red hair is twisted up into a loose and sloppy bun and she has actually put make-up on again. She looks pretty, but tired, and smiling, I swat her on the bum before I jump in the shower. Washing quickly, I then brush my teeth and leave my face unshaved before I dress in a chunky cream Aran sweater, a pair of faded Levi's and black desert boots.

We sit in front of the tree and open our gifts whilst we eat a toasted crumpet with cheese and drink hot chocolate. Anna almost passes out when I put on my amazing '_umbrella hat'_ from Clarissa and tell her that it's for when I go rowing. She laughs a little less when she opens the hand-made pair of lime green and purple pants that Clarissa has made for her, with a matching bra… yeah.

She refuses to model them for me and says however kind it is, the straps are so long, the bra cups would nestle nicely on her belly! And she almost cries when she sees the shoes that I've bought her and snuggles them to her cheek as she sniffs the new leather.

I don't understand girls and their love of shoes and handbags, I really don't. I love how their legs look in high heels but I don't get excited by a new pair of rugby boots or rowing wellies, so why the hell do they almost orgasm with excitement if a handbag has a satin or suede lining?

All in all, I receive some lovely gifts. I get vouchers, aftershave, underwear and a toy duck from Katy and Carlisle, a beautiful hand-made briefcase from Annabelle as well as my cologne, obviously, and all sorts of peculiar bits and bobs from Clarissa and Ali. Why Alina thinks that I need a silver policeman's whistle is beyond me, but her note explains that it's an antique and had belonged to her dad. She says it's for when I'm a qualified lawyer and need to get help from an officer if a disgruntled criminal attacks me.

Right…

For some reason, Clarissa has also bought me some new boxer shorts in Cambridge colours and has even bought me a new pair of pale Cambridge blue wellington boots for walking into the river before rowing.

The Bunten's kindly sent me a hamper filled with home-made things and I'm genuinely touched that they thought of me. There's a Christmas cake, chutney, jam, sloe gin, mince pies and a pot of brandy butter. I won't use any of it and it's a pity to waste it so I decide to take it to the Masen's with me for everyone to share.

They also send me a pair of warm slippers and a dressing gown explaining that the house is draughty and cold in the winter. I make a mental note to install under floor heating and to upgrade the radiators. I don't like the cold.

On top of my other gifts, Carlisle has bought tickets for the four of us to attend a recital of chamber music by the Royal Symphony Orchestra and I'm thrilled because they're playing some of my favourite compositions. We are then going to Claridge's for supper afterwards.

Grabbing a few bags with various odds and ends in them, the hamper, plus the champagne and a pot of caviar from the fridge, we put our coats on and head off across London. Happily ensconced in my warm car, we chat about nothing in particular whilst listening to Christmas songs on the radio. This Christmas cheer bollocks is quite contagious and we sing along with the carols. Once more, the roads are empty and it takes less than forty minutes to get there. Tiny little flakes of snow are falling, so I have to have the wipers going as I drive.

Pulling up outside their large house, Anna grabs my hand. "Will they like me?" she asks, nervously. "I'm scared, Eddie. I don't know any of them!"

"Of course they will," I say, climbing out and pulling the parcels out of the boot. "They're a wonderful family, Anna, and remember, Rosalie is out of the country so it will be a lovely, peaceful, fun-filled day. She's the only bitch in the midst. Come on."

The shiny black front door is decorated with a large, elegant green wreath, embellished with dried fruit and ribbons and the front garden, like the pavements and roads, is covered in an icing sugar dusting of snow. Icicle lights hang from the eaves and two olive trees that sit either side of the door are decorated with white lights. Their house always looks lovely and despite the chill in the air, their red brick house looks warm, mellow and inviting. I can see the lights from their Christmas tree twinkling through the window. I remember what my life was like with the Muswell Hillbilly, before I met Jasper again, and was welcomed into the bosom of his family and grip Anna's hand more tightly.

"I'm nervous," Anna whimpers, as I smile at her and announce our arrival. Before I've even removed my finger from the bell, the door is wrenched open by Jasper.

"Hey, Jasper," I say, leaning in to wrap my arm around him, bumping him with my fist as I do so.

"Merry Christmas, dude," he says, laughing as he hugs me and takes some of the bags out of my hands. "Looking good! How are things? Oh, nice champagne, Edward, Auntie Esme will be very happy, that's her favourite kind! Two bottles? Wow! She won't be able to cook dinner if she quaffs both of them! You know what she's like!"

"Happy Christmas to you too, Jazz," I continue, clapping him on the back. "Oh, let me introduce you two before we go in. Jasper Whitlock, this is my friend, Annabelle Smith."

…

**So this chapter was a bitch to write. It's a bridging chapter that ties up a lot of ends and culminates with the lovely Mr Whitlock meeting his future dominatrix and wife! How will Edward react when they are attracted to one another? His two best friends? Wait and see…**

**I'm going to write his next pov immediately because I need to keep the impetus going, and brace yourself, the next three really aren't for the faint of heart. **


	16. Chapter 16

**Encountering Superman**

**Those of you who know me, know that my muse is Henry Cavill, not Robert Pattinson and I'm over the moon at the fact that I saw him, in the flesh, tonight, the day after the UK premier, at the filming of the Graham Norton show! **

**In the illustrious words of Miranda Hart's mother—please bear with, whilst I regale you with my wonderfully special night in the presence of my own personal super man, Superman. See what I did there?**

**Now, having been a fan of the lovely Mr C for quite some time, since I saw him in tights as Charles Brandon in the Tudors, I have revisited my favourite place in London, the Tower, many times. It is a wonderful, historical setting, but I have to admit to being permanently disappointed that Henry has never appeared from around a corner wearing his doublet and vest and this was my one and only chance to see the boy and share his DNA—sadly, only air-born—I would have been arrested if I'd shared what I wanted to share with him, but that's a whole other story!**

**In his honour, I shaved my legs and under my arms, attempted to curtail my wild eyebrows and took an electrical trimmer to my nether regions. I tried to shave the Superman 'S' into my untamed shrubbery but it looks more like an 'X' – but that could work if he needed directions, couldn't it? I even yanked on new knickers in his honour!**

**Forgive me, I digress. **

**I took four friends, and my poor son, along with me, purely so that he could tower above everyone else and reach the bar with his long arms. There were five women, four of whom are harpies, in need of sustenance, and his duty was to see to our every whim and need, and let's face it, boys have got to be good for something!**

**I don't drink very often, hardly ever in fact, but I had to force down a glass of wine in a bid to stop myself peeing my pants in excitement! We lined up and got our wrist bands from the campest Australian I've ever known. He hit on my son and said we could get in the front row if he could have my son. I said, "Feel free, take him away," to which my wonderful boy just rolled his eyes. Laughing at my sons amazing sense of humour, we wandered away from the studios and hit the pub for a swift snifter and a nice meal. **

**En route, I found a lovely shop and bought a flowery velvet handbag. I was a happy girl.**

**We shovelled the food down as fast as possible so that we could be first in the queue and we were surprised that, even though we got to the queue an hour and a half early, we were still six behind the front. We stood and froze our bums off for ages until at last we were let into the building. **

**All of us slathering females ran off and left my poor son way behind us. When I asked what took him so long, he said that we had taken off like a sodding stampede and that he had no chance of catching us up!**

**After we were directed to our seats, right in the centre of the front row, I bounced up and down so much that my son said I needed to be tied to the chair to control myself. Little does he know how much I would have loved Henry to have done that, but to tell him that his mother has seriously submissive, BDSM predilections might have just pushed him over the edge! **

**Anyway, just as I always knew, Henry is the most beautiful, perfect specimen of manliness on the planet. I always suspected that—to me—he is without compare, and oh boy, he didn't disappoint. **

**When he came out, in his three piece suit, I almost fainted through lack of bodily fluids and had to hang on to the sides of the seat in a feeble bid to stop myself slipping off it. **

**I always knew he was a big, strapping chap but holy hell; nothing prepared me for what he looked like in the flesh! I had to fight the urge to hurl myself, rugby tackle wise, around his ankles and gnaw my way up his legs. I thought I might ask if I could see his doublet and hose or whether he let me use my ample bosom to polish his armour, but thought better of it. I think my son would have had me committed if I had done that to the poor bugger in public, but I might do it next time, with Lisa Lee to give me courage!**

**Henry is beautifully spoken, sweet tempered, self-deprecating, funny and doesn't hog the limelight. He's just wonderful and perfect.**

**I had to make myself behave but the overwhelming need to slither along the floor like a large slug almost overcame me and Laura felt the need to pin me down. Sadly.**

**In desperate need to keep my mouth busy, I chewed the handle of my handbag like a teething small baby hippo and wonder how Henry managed to resist the urge to wade through the audience and carry me, with difficulty, or with the help of a crane, off into the sunset. I guess he is my kryptonite, because he certainly makes my knees go weak.**

**My poor son looked on in stunned horror at the antics of the women in the audience—me included—as we squealed and clapped like performing seals. He is now mentally scarred for life and says that if I ever make those kinds of noises in public again, he is disowning me and moving back to Australia. I said I couldn't guarantee it, so he has decided to head off to all things Antipodean anyway. Luckily, he's only going to leave me for three and a half weeks to watch the British and Irish Lions play rugby so I will have him home again soon!**

**Oh, and Amy Adams was lovely and sweet and Russell Crowe stole the show with his wit and humour. All in all, we had a wonderful night and Henry, baby boy, you are the man of my dreams, and penmanship!**

…**.**

**Firstly, let me clarify a few very valid points that have been raised. Carlisle may not be coming across as the well thought of dominant that he is, BUT THAT'S THE POINT. He is restrained, well trained and totally in control of all scenes he plans and participates in. **

**USUALLY. **

**But with Edward, it is utterly different because of the way he feels about him, THIS is why his wife is reining him in and this is what makes his journey with Edward entirely different to the well-worn path he has trod with his countless other submissives. He is in love with Edward, not merely in love with him. **

**Remember, however amazing and wonderful a dominant or dominatrix is, they are still only human and the saying is 'to err is to be human.' I wanted to show that even though someone can appear to be almost robotic like in their control most of the time, even the most restrained of people can slip sometimes.**

**The other point is about Edward and Henrietta. This won't end badly. They are almost mirror images of one another, sexually, and although she is slightly possessive about him, as is everyone he gets involved with, she is also experienced enough to realise that these fresh young things will eventually toddle off to pastures new. And as such, she will always be ready to seduce the next candidate as soon as new meat arrives at the start of term. Don't worry about any of this too much, please, all will become clearer as the story goes on!**

…

**THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO JOYCE, WHO IS NOW MY WEE TECHIE HARPY AND MY PROXY WIFEY. SHE'S A REMARKABLE FRIEND WHO SPENDS HOURS FANNYING ABOUT WITH MY STORIES, POSTING THEM HERE, BLOGGING THEM THERE AND ALL BECAUSE SHE IS MY FRIEND.**

**IT'S ALSO DEDICATED TO MY DARLING STEPHANIE. YOU HAVE COME INTO MY LIFE AND BRIGHTENED IT UP, SWEETIE. **

**KATY. LUVS YA, YOU OLD TROUT.**

…**.**

**MY STORY HAS ALLOWED ME TO MEET THE MOST WONDERFUL GIRLS AND FOR THAT, I'M INORDINATELY GRATEFUL.**

…

**Hello! Now, before we go on, I KNOW some of you weren't happy bunnies with Edward and Henrietta but come on! He's a horny young boy and she has both the brains and the sexually voracious appetite that matches his own, so she's utterly irresistible to him! Give the boy a break will you?**

**Thank you, as ever, to my darling girls, Rima2000 and Laura Mars for their unending care, love and patience with me and my writing, without you two, there would be a very different, messy version of my stories. Hugs and loves to you both, my angels. **

**My fur babies are doing well. Ronald is getting stronger and is galloping around all over the place. His legs are MUCH better and I'm thrilled with the three of them, but my poor Jaspie Poos is horribly jealous and Bernard is terrified of them, God love them! I just hope they all settle down together soon because I'm a knackered old harpy having to sleep on the couch with my boys every night.**

**Remember, anyone wanting to join harpies haven, please message me with your Facebook details and I will add you.**

**The girls and I proudly present:**

**I WILL WAIT**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

"_**And I came home**____**  
Like a stone**____**  
And I fell heavy into your arms**____**  
These days of dust**____**  
Which we've known**____**  
Will blow away with this new sun**____****_

And I'll kneel down___**  
Wait for now**____**  
And I'll kneel down**____**  
Know my ground**____****_

And I will wait, I will wait for you___**  
And I will wait, I will wait for you**____****_

So break my step___**  
And relent**____**  
You forgave and I won't forget**____**  
Know what we've seen**____**  
And him with less**____**  
Now in some way**____**  
Shake the excess**____****_

But I will wait, I will wait for you___**  
And I will wait, I will wait for you**____**  
And I will wait, I will wait for you**____**  
And I will wait, I will wait for you**____****_

So I'll be bold___**  
As well as strong**____**  
And use my head alongside my heart**____**  
So take my flesh**____**  
And fix my eyes**____**  
That tethered mind free from the lies**____****_

But I'll kneel down___**  
Wait for now**____**  
I'll kneel down**____**  
Know my ground**____****_

Raise my hands___**  
Paint my spirit gold**____**  
And bow my head**____**  
Keep my heart slow**____****_

Cause I will wait, I will wait for you___**  
And I will wait, I will wait for you**____**  
And I will wait, I will wait for you**____**  
And I will wait, I will wait for you."**_

**Previously **

**Grabbing a few bags, plus the champagne and a pot of caviar from the fridge, we put our coats on and head off across London, listening to Christmas songs on the radio. This Christmas cheer bollocks is quite contagious and we sing along with the carols. Once more, the roads are empty and it takes less than forty minutes to get there.**

**Pulling up outside their large house, Anna grabs my hand. "Will they like me?" she asks, nervously. **

"**Of course they will," I say, climbing out and pulling the parcels out of the boot. "They're wonderful. Come on."**

**The door is decorated with a large, elegant green wreath, embellished with dried fruit and ribbons. Before I've even removed my finger from the bell, the door is wrenched open by Jasper.**

"**Hey, Jasper," I say, leaning in.**

"**Merry Christmas, dude," he says, laughing as he hugs me.**

"**And to you, Jazz," I continue, clapping him on the back. "Jasper Whitlock, this is my friend, Annabelle Smith."**

…

Looking behind me, I smile as Anna approaches, shuffling her feet loudly on the wooden floor as she does so.

Bless her.

I knew that she was nervous at meeting the Whitlock's and Masen's for the first time, which is unusual for her, but I didn't expect her to look like a frightened rabbit. I watch as Jasper walks slowly towards Annabelle, not smiling as he holds his hand out, stiffly, for her to shake. Jasper makes no attempt to be friendly, in fact, he positively scowls at her, and her expression isn't much better as a deep furrow develops between her eyebrows.

"Hello, Annabelle. I'm Jasper Whitlock, Edward's best friend. It's a pleasure to meet you at last," he says, with an odd flatness to his voice. "I've heard a lot about you. Welcome to my aunt and uncle's home, please do come in," he says, waving us further inside.

"Thank you," Anna says, equally as flatly, as she stares at Jasper. Her face is totally impassive and I scowl at her, not knowing what the fuck is the matter with them both. Annabelle is an open book, and as such, I can read her face as well as I can read my own emotions. But today, there's nothing there, it's like she's closed down.

"It's nice to meet you too. I've heard a lot about you. Edward talks about you all the time," she says, without any kind of emotion in her voice.

Frowning, I look from one to the other without saying anything. The expression on their faces is now totally ambivalent and disinterested as they stare, unblinking, at one another. But oddly, they still have their hands locked.

"Are you alright, Anna?" I ask, as I look at her closely. I'm surprised to see a bead of sweat as it trickles down the side of her face. Even more oddly is fact that they are standing so close, that their bodies are almost touching. Jasper's other hand flies forwards and for a brief moment it hangs there, almost frozen. He looks as if he's about to wipe the perspiration away, but coughing, he steps back a little bit. They turn to look at me. They are both oddly pale but with flushed cheeks and looking at each other again, they quickly let go of one another's hands, moving apart.

Annabelle sniffs, and swallows loudly, she curls her lip, almost as if there's a bad smell in the Masen's spacious, beautifully scented, hallway. That's utter crap, because Esme's house is always sweet smelling and immaculate. In fact, it usually has a lingering smell of Rosalie's perfume and at that thought, my traitorous cock twitches inappropriately. I do sometimes wonder whether I shouldn't have just fucked her when she begged me to and cock her out of my system altogether.

"Annabelle?" I ask again when I realise that neither of them have said a word but that they are both still staring at one another.

"Yes, thank you, Eddie, I'm absolutely fine," she says, refusing to make eye contact with me as she looks at the large, ticking grandfather clock behind me. "I'm just a little bit hot and my stomach hurts."

Bollocks.

"Is it something you ate?" I ask her, putting my head on the side, trying to catch her out on her lie as I place my hand on her forehead. "You didn't eat breakfast this morning. It's probably all the booze you drank last night. Is your hangover still making your head hurt?"

"No. No it isn't hurting any more, and I don't think it was yesterday, or this morning either," she replies. Blushing, as she pulls away from me quickly, she says, "I'm just a little bit tired."

She's lying. I know she is. Sadly, it would seem that my two best friends instantly dislike one another and now I'm stuffed. Shit. I didn't expect Anna and Rosalie to like one another, of course I didn't. Not many women do like Rose. Unless, like Alice, they fancy her. That, of course, is because she's a bloody man magnet who has never felt the need to have girl friends. But I'd hoped that Jazz and Anna would get on because they both like me, and that would have made my life so much easier.

"Come in, darlings!" someone yells from the drawing room, making us all jump slightly. The happy sounding voice shatters the peculiar feeling that has wrapped itself around the three of us.

Thank Christ for that, I was beginning to think that the peculiar atmosphere wrapping around us all was going to destroy Christmas. "Edward, Jasper, come in, dears! It's cold with the front door open, do hurry up!"

Pushing my way passed Jasper; I grab Annabelle by the wrist and yank her behind me, as I follow the sound of the jolly Christmas music. As we walk, we pass a tall, elegant tree covered in elegant and sophisticated red and gold decorations.

The voice yells again, "It's chilly with the door open, Jasper! Quickly, my darling boy! Make sure you close it, and lock it, sweetheart. Bring our guests through and into the warmth!"

The drawing room is, of course, beautiful. Esme changes the theme every Christmas and this year it's elegantly swathed and bedecked in green, silver and white and looks like a frosty winter wonderland. Last year it had a baroque flavour with lots of opulent purple, gold, red and crimson, intermingled with the ubiquitous green foliage. Candles are burning everywhere and the fragrance of cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger and pine subtly permeates the air and the candle light adds a mellow, glowing warmth in the dimming early afternoon light. A massive tree sits in the corner next to the roaring fire that makes the entire room look rosy. A large basket is overflowing with pinecones and sits next to the fire. The smell coming from them is lovely and I smile, allowing the familiar feeling of safety and comfort that I always experience when I visit the Masens and the Whitlocks, to wash over me.

Peter meets us first, and I have to fight the urge to laugh out loud.

The poor sod.

As usual, he's been dressed up by his wife and he looks a total twit. He's wearing a bright red jumper with a large, glittery reindeer face on it and has a Father Christmas, fur trimmed hat on his head. It's resplendent with flashing pom poms, jingling silver bells and glitter around the edge and a large snowball sized puff ball on the top. He looks really silly, but then, he does every Christmas, so I'm not in the slightest bit surprised to see him dressed like this. But Annabelle isn't, and I can hear her, standing right behind me, attempting not to snigger.

"Hey, Peter," I say, smiling, "How are you? Merry Christmas, Jingle Bells and all that jazz! You look… um… very festive… did Esme lay out your clothes for you?"

"Everything is fine, my boy. I'm very well, in myself. My golf par is coming down nicely and business is doing marvellously," he continues. "Self-help manuals seem to be in vogue right now as do DIY and cookery books and we have three in the top ten best sellers list for the Christmas period, so the old finances are buoyant enough to indulge the females in my life, which keeps them happy, which in turn, gives me a quiet life. And yes, of course, as you've already surmised, my darling chattel chose my outfit! Doesn't she always?" he laughs. "Please do come in! We have alcohol and gifts for all! Merry Christmas to you, my dear boy, Merry Christmas! You look well!" he says, grinning.

"Thank, I am well," I say.

"How is university? Have you settled in properly yet? I went to Oxford, as you know, and had a very jolly time. What's the social life like in Cambridge? How is the beer?" he asks as he pushes me in front of him. Before I can answer, he pats my arm, "Good, good, university life seems to be suiting you. You look as if you've bulked out a little bit too. You're far more muscular than you were last Christmas, Edward. It must be all your rowing," he says, prodding my upper arm. "Come this way, the mulled wine is warming nicely. Ah, and this must be your young lady," he says brightly, reaching passed me to Annabelle. "Welcome to our home, my dear! It's a pleasure to meet you. Come and let me look at you. My, you're a pretty girl. Let me take your coat. Isn't it chilly today? Come in, come in. I'm Peter Masen, the man of the house!" he finishes, as Esme guffaws from the corner.

"In your dreams, Peter, my love! However many times you make that ridiculous statement, sweetie, no one will ever believe a single word you say," she says, kissing her husband gently on the cheek. "I adore you, but you most definitely DON'T wear the trousers in our house, if anyone does, it's our bossy boots of a daughter, when she's at home! And, my love, if you call me 'old' again, you'll be sleeping in your shed this evening! Hello darling!" she says, as she wraps her arms around me and hugs me tightly. "How are you?"

Stepping back, she looks me up and down. "Well for once, Mr Unobservant has been paying attention," she continues. "I don't know what I'm more shocked about, darling. The fact that my husband has noticed something or that you have bulked up so much! You DO look marvellous! And my goodness," she says, squeezing my arm, "I might have to start calling you _'Mr Muscle_! What HAVE you been doing to yourself? I hope you aren't taking drugs for your sport, sweetheart? Are you?"

"Hello, Esme," I say, kissing her on both cheeks, "It's lovely to see you again. As ever, you look beautiful. And no, of course I'm not taking steroids! I'm spending hours in the gym and on the water every day, and it's paying off. You've had your hair cut, haven't you? You look great." She smells wonderful. Whenever she wraps her arms around me, her very distinctive scent wafts over me and feels like home and safety. I plucked up the courage once to ask her what perfume she wore and she said that, like her mother before her, she has always worn Arpege. It's a lovely, light, slightly musky smell and I often buy her bottles of it, from Duty Free, when I return from Ireland, along with a bottle of brandy for Peter. "Doesn't she look lovely, Peter?" I say, smiling.

Grinning up at me, she blushes a little, as she stands beside her adoring husband who wraps his arm around her shoulder.

"Tsk tsk tsk, Edward Cullen," she giggles, "Ever the charmer! You were dangerous as a young boy and could wrap all of us around your little finger, but now you're a man, you are positively lethal, darling! I've always wondered why you don't have an entire harem of young ladies following you around. Is there some reason I don't know of? You're handsome, clever, and disgustingly wealthy with a glowing career in front of you. Added to that, you are generous, kind and sweet. All in all, you're quite a catch. I did always think that there might be an attraction and future for you and Ros…" she begins, before her eyes flash to Annabelle and the colour rises a little more in her cheeks. "Never mind me and my silly day dreams… I guess you are a one girl boy! It's lovely that you have such high morals, sweetheart," she says, patting my cheek.

A muffled snort from behind me makes me turn around and smirk at Annabelle, because the thought of me having high morals is utterly risible, but Esme is like an aunt to me and there's no way I would ever tell her the truth about me and shock her. I wouldn't want to risk losing their love and affection for anything.

"I'm not trying to charm you," I say, kissing her on the top of her head, "You do look amazing," I say, firmly. "You always look wonderful."

She really does look good, she always does and she takes a lot of time and effort to stay this way. I know for a fact that she goes to spas with her sister Charlotte often and I've seen her coming back from both jogging and the gym regularly, but somehow, she looks softer and prettier than usual. She's wearing a pair of dark trousers and a soft, fluffy dark jumper studded with tiny sequins that sparkle subtly in the light of the tree, candles and fire. She smells, and looks, lovely as she kisses me on both cheeks once again.

"Merry Christmas, Esme," I say, squeezing her hand. "Thanks for inviting us. I wasn't sure we would all get together this year, what with Rose not being around."

"Thank you, darling," she says, "My daughter is rarely around these days, but despite what her adoring father thinks, life goes on whilst Rosalie is doing whatever Rosalie wants and I still celebrate Christmas! And, young man, where else would you be? You're my family and I want you all here with me!" she says, smiling. Putting her head on the side, she turns her attention to Anna who is shuffling uncomfortably beside me. "Merry Christmas to you! Sorry for the delay in welcoming you, but this one," she says, leaning forwards to kiss Annabelle on the cheek whilst she jabs me on the arm, "Is always a frightful distraction! You must be Annabelle! How lovely to meet you! Welcome! My! Aren't you a pretty girl? I can quite see why Edward is so taken with you. Peter! Take their coats and let me get them a drink, it's bitterly cold today and knowing this boy," she says, squeezing my hand, "he wouldn't have eaten anything yet. What would you like to drink?"

"Just a soft drink for me, please, Esme," I say, taking my coat off and handing it to Peter, "I have to drive us home tonight. I have a busy day tomorrow, and we have eaten a snack before we left, and I had a cooked breakfast at the hotel this morning I promise."

"Oh no, darling! I've made up the spare room for you both! Are you sure?" she asks. "Couldn't you leave early in the morning?"

"Yes, I'm sure, thank you," I say, gathering my bags and the hamper. "If I stayed, I'd end up drinking Peter's lethal concoctions and wouldn't leave for a couple of days! And we would be having separate rooms if we did stay, Esme," I say, smiling at her. "Stop matchmaking. Anna and I are just friends!"

"Match making?" she says, looking from Annabelle to me and back again. "I thought you were a couple, dear?"

"No, no." I say, "We're just friends, Esme. We've known one another for a while now," I say, turning around to smile at Anna.

"Oh. Oh well," Esme says, looking unconvinced. "It's good to begin as friends. Peter and I met and Oxford and eventually became friends. I thrashed him repeatedly when we were debating and he was two years above me. He followed me around like a lapdog for the rest of the year, didn't you, dear?" she asks and in response, he nods excitedly. "He irritated the hell out of me and I ignored him until he turned up carrying red roses and a first edition of Mansfield Park. His parents were in the publishing business too, that's how he got hold of that particular gem! Anyway, he begged me to go out to dinner with him. I went because I felt terribly sorry for him because he'd gone to so much trouble, and to my utter surprise, we ended up having a lovely time. He was the sweetest, kindest, most innocent man I'd ever met and I was utterly transfixed by him. We got married a year later, whilst I was still at university and Peter was working as an intern at a small publishing house in Oxford, so that he could remain close by me. And, my dear, as they say, the rest is history because we've been together ever since. From that night, I never wanted anyone else. Despite the fact that I tease my husband mercilessly, he was, and is, all I needed, and I would love Rosalie to find what we have," she finishes, holding her husband's hand tightly.

"I didn't know you'd been together for so long," I say, smiling but feeling a little odd. She's never discussed anything so personal with me before and I don't exactly feel comfortable with this level of intimacy. "And yes, this is Annabelle."

"Oh, my dear!" Esme states, "I'm being so rude. I shouldn't be reminiscing like this! I should be looking after my guests! Forgive me! Now, how about that drink?"

"Thank you for inviting me," Annabelle says quietly, as she removes her coat and places the brightly patterned gift bags by the tree. "It was a lovely story, Mrs Masen, and yes please, I'd like some mulled wine, if you have any going spare? It smells utterly delicious!"

"Of course we do! I've made a massive pan of it! And for God's sake, don't call me 'Mrs Masen!' Please call me Esme! Mrs Masen was my interfering mother-in-law who never forgave me for only presenting her with a granddaughter and not a son and heir!" Esme says, as she scurries off into another room.

Charlotte and Garrett appear from the terrace where they've been smoking—no one smokes in the Masen's house—and we all hug and chat for a little while before we sit down with our drinks and nibbles.

The entire house now smells of food and my stomach rumbles loudly as I stuff handfuls of salted peanuts and Bombay mix down my throat as I sip my glass of chilled, freshly squeezed orange juice, topped up with clinking ice cubes.

We sit around the tree and open our gifts and once again, I get some lovely things. Jasper has bought me a rugby jersey, some sheet music—because he's pissed off that I don't play my guitar or the piano anymore—and a t-shirt with the name and logo of his band on it. He explains that they're doing quite well and have been booked to tour Europe for six weeks in the spring. I'm genuinely happy for him that he's sort of making a living from his music now. Charlotte and Garrett give me a voucher for a sports shop, so that I can buy some stuff for my rowing and Esme and Peter give me a much too expensive lens for my camera and a box full of bath shit. It smells great and is supposedly just for men. I've never heard of the brand but they say it's the latest 'thing.'

Esme sits and regales us all with the supposed medicinal properties of the new toiletries whilst Peter disappears briefly. When he reappears, he's carrying a new oar! I can't believe that they've done that and don't really know what I'm going to do with it, as we all have the same oars in the team, but it's an incredibly kind present and I'm thrilled with it. Rosalie has left me a voucher for a legal book shop and Emmett has sent me a Cambridge rugby top and a subscription for a top shelf lads mag. Sigh. He never bloody changes! I like porn as much as every other man I've ever known, but I don't want that fact to be flashed around in front of his mother and aunt!

"Peter has been spending too much time on the golf range so, out of a sense of guilt, he bought me this," Esme says, wafting her hand in front of her. A beautiful, dazzlingly sparkly diamond bracelet is clasped around her slender wrist in front of me.

"That's lovely. Well done, Pete, old boy," Garrett says, patting him on the back, "You're set for a few months-worth of fun and games in payment of that!"

"GARRETT!" Charlotte barks, looking appalled as she scans the room. She turns scarlet as she looks at me before she hits her husband firmly on the arm. "We have children in the room! Behave yourself!"

"I hardly think that these three are children, dear," he says, grinning. "I bet our boy has already…" he begins before Charlotte stands up, slams her glass down on the coffee table and leaves the room. "Oh well, I'm on the couch tonight!" Garrett says, brightly.

The more I hear about, and observe married couples, the more I know that I've done the right thing by deciding to stay single.

Charlotte walks back into the room without looking at Garrett, pours herself a massive measure of Scotch and sits down beside her sister.

Laughing at their silliness, I pour myself a glass of cloudy lemonade and sit and watch the others opening their gifts. Esme and Charlotte give Annabelle some perfume and toiletries and she's very touched that they thought about her and Esme is overwhelmed when she sees the David Austin voucher for some specialist roses that Anna has bought for her.

"My dear!" she exclaims, "I know exactly what I want to buy! We have a rather large, almost blank wall at the far end of the garden and I want some red, orange and shocking pink roses! Don't look at me like that, Peter!" she chastises. "The garden is my domain! You have no say in what happens out there, so ssshush! I will get the gardener to plant them up for me and don't you dare interfere!"

We spend the next hour laughing and drinking whilst everyone else opens their gifts. I stick to orange juice, water and lemonade, and by the end of the present opening, there are several black sacks filled with discarded rubbish. Esme says that she's going to recycle the paper, whatever that means and I help Peter carry it down to the end of the garden where we shove it into a large green bin. They are all thrilled with the gifts that Annabelle gives to them and the hamper of food that I've brought with me is very welcome. When I explain that it came from my family house in Highgate, Peter and Esme look at one another oddly, but say nothing. Garrett, on the other hand, asks me if I plan on moving back to the Cullen house, because he's heard that it's magnificent inside. Shrugging, I say yes, I am, in the New Year.

"I've been told that your family have been extensive collectors over the centuries, Edward," Charlotte says, filling her glass with champagne again, "Is that true? What sort of things did they collect?"

"I don't really know," I say, uncomfortably. I don't like people knowing about my wealth, it always feels like I'm being smug and bragging, so I usually downplay what I have and haven't got. "I know there are paintings and china and stuff like that but other than that, I don't really know. Jane mentioned something about stamps as well but I haven't had a chance to look yet."

"Well, maybe when you've moved, you could show me?" she asks. "I bet there are some Penny Black's and Penny Red's. I'd love to see them. Can I come over?"

Nodding weakly, and unenthusiastically, "Yes, I'm sure something can be arranged. In the future…" I say, without committing to any kind of time frame as I turn to look at Annabelle. She looks surprised at the fact that I'm moving, but she's much too busy scowling at Jasper to take any notice of what else is going on.

"Aren't you related to Henry VIII or something?" Garrett asks, as he eats an olive. "I'm sure Jasper mentioned that your family were members of the Tudor Court or some shit like that. Is that true? Were the Cullens part of the Royal Court?"

"No, no," I say, quickly, blushing as I lie to someone I both like and respect. "It was really nothing like that. They've all been bankers or businessman, merchants and that sort of thing through the centuries. One of them imported silks and china from the Far East, another helped take the steam train to North America, but they didn't do anything really important. None of them were ever anything glamorous or famous, or sadly, not even a little bit infamous…" I fudge, as I help myself to some salted cashew nuts. "We can just be traced back to then, as most families can be…" I mumble, refusing to look at anyone as I stare into the fire.

"Do you still have any of the fabrics or china?" Charlotte asks, genuinely interested.

"I don't know…" I lie. I know for a fact that there are boxes and boxes of china in storage somewhere. My granny had told me this when I was a little boy and she said it was worth a fortune. I don't know where it is but I make a mental note to look at Jane, and the executors, inventory when I return to my flat.

"Your mum was famous," Jasper says, from beside me as he squeezes my arm. "You know she was…"

"Your mum was famous?" Annabelle asks, still frowning at Jasper. "I didn't know that, Eddie. You never said. Who was she?"

"It doesn't matter…" I mumble, and refuse to look at her as I go and sit next to Esme who, sensing my unease, changes the subject and holds my hand tightly before she leans over and kisses my cheek.

"_It's okay, darling,"_ she whispers, _"You don't have to talk about them. Sit by me… I'll soon distract them. I'll get Peter to start talking about his love of cricket. That will bore everyone to sobs and they'll soon forget what they wanted to know!"_ she chuckles, barely audibly.

I love the way she protects me. And leaning back, I briefly allow my mind to wander as I squeeze her fingers tightly, and wonder if my own mother would have looked after me like that. Swallowing loudly, I kiss her back before I stand up and look out of the window, I can't allow myself to think things like that. I will never know what my mother would have felt for me, not really, and dwelling on such things can only lead to heartbreak.

She is as good as her word, and after she hands Peter another present, a cricket bat this time, he is beside himself with excitement. It is signed by the winning Ashes team, who beat Australia, and that included Andrew Strauss, Freddie Flintock and Kevin Petersen, and he yaks incessantly about 'the glory days.' In response, everyone pours themselves a large measure of whatever they are drinking, and sit in bored silence as he whitters on.

When we sit down in the dining room, we pull crackers and open our ludicrous _'table top funnies'_ gifts. Peter had pulled my name out of the hat this year, so it was his job to find me something suitable and I have to say, I've never received anything less funny in my life. He's bought me a tome of a book called _"How to get ahead in Business and Succeed in your Private Life."_

Everyone looks at it and scowls as they open their own ridiculous presents.

Garrett laughs at the boxer shorts he opens that have a flashing Rudolf nose on the crotch and Annabelle blushes when she opens a bottle of chocolate flavoured massage lotion as her eyes flash to Jasper's face before she looks at mine.

What the fuck is going on between those two? How could they dislike one another without even having a single conversation? Just as I go to walk towards her and sit next to her to ask her to explain her behaviour, Esme begins to tease and chastise her husband. They are always very funny when they bicker and the entire room shuts up to listen to their exchanges.

"That isn't very funny, Peter!" Esme chastises. "The entire point of a table _funny,_ darling, is that it's FUNNY! You know what that means, don't you, dear? Humorous? Witty? Jocular? Or better yet, downright silly, oh husband of mine! I hate to be a kill joy, my love, but that isn't in the slightest bit amusing, what were you thinking? I do wish you would let your hair down from time to time, I really do."

"It is funny, Esme! It is! Well, it is to me anyway," Peter huffs, folding his arms, "Edward is a clever boy who doesn't need any help in getting ahead. It was an ironic gift!"

"If you say so, dear," she says, dismissively, as she pulls a candy cane shaped vibrator out of jolly red wrapping paper, and four packets of triple A batteries fall out and land on the table with a loud clunk. "Oh my goodness!" she says and blushes as she stares at her sister with wide eyes. "That daughter of mine has no shame whatsoever! She knew I'd have to open this in front of you all! She's really a terribly naughty girl! Peter! Your daughter really doesn't take after you, does she?" she guffaws, "I blame you, Charlotte," she says, pointing the vibrator at her sister, "You were always a bad girl too!"

Everyone, including Annabelle, bursts out laughing. Apart from Peter, obviously, and instead, he sits looking utterly bewildered.

"Why on earth do you say that?" Peter asks, "I think it's quite sweet that she's bought you a decoration for the Christmas tree, Esme, why on earth are you all laughing? Does it light up? Is that what the batteries are for? Rosalie is still such an innocent little girl. I think that's the sweetest present she's ever bought you, dear."

No one says a word. Instead we all turn to look at him in disbelief. He's been married forever, and lives with a bright, vibrant woman. How in the name of God is he this stupid and naïve? It just doesn't make any sense to me!

"Um… you do know what that is, don't you, old chap?" Garrett says, "We wouldn't be without ours. We have a few of them," he slurs slightly and Charlotte glowers at him as he tops up his whiskey from a crystal decanter. "It certainly spices things up! Especially when Charlotte uses it on m…"

"DAD!" Jasper yells this time, before Garrett yelps loudly. I'm guessing that Charlotte either stamped on his foot or kicked him under the table, and Jasper bursts out laughing when he opens a turquoise mankini, bought for him by his Auntie Esme. Annabelle gets a voucher for a spa session in Covent Garden. As no one knew her, they weren't able to buy her anything silly without offending her.

Lunch is delicious, as it always is, and despite the fact that everyone is happy, jolly and chatting, I notice that Annabelle and Jasper still haven't spoken to one another. They look at each other from time to time and both blush, but they don't have any kind of conversation. No one else seems to be aware of this fact but me. They're too busy eating their scallop and black pudding starter, and getting merry, to pay attention. So I say nothing. But my heart sinks at the knowledge that they obviously are uncomfortable in one another's company and that they don't like each other.

A turkey, the size of a large pterodactyl, is carried to the table, with difficulty. Standing, we all insist on helping Esme to ferry the copious number of serving dishes into the room before we take our seats once more. The music is playing gently in the background and the candles flicker softly. The setting is absolutely perfect and I've never seen such a feast, or felt so festive before.

As well as the bird, there are pigs in blankets, stuffing balls, Yorkshire puddings, sprouts, carrots, red cabbage, peas, sweet corn, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes and a thick, rich onion gravy. I eat so much that I can hardly move and sitting back, I pat my stomach and seriously contemplate undoing the button on my jeans to give my stomach a little more room.

Helping myself to another slice of meat, I force myself to eat another Yorkshire pudding, despite the fact that I've eaten far more than I usually would. It's the most delicious meal I've ever had and I chomp my way through it eagerly, and yet, when I look at Anna, she's doing little but picking at a sprout.

After the detritus of the main course has been cleared away, and there is enough left over turkey to feed the entire street the next day, Peter carries the lit pudding into the dining room. Jasper turns the lights off to allow the brightly blue burning plum concoction to dazzle us all with its beauty. Flaming and resplendent with its holly crown, we all clap its entrance into the grand dining room. He smiles and laughs along with the rest of us and although he sits back down next to Annabelle, he doesn't even turn to look at her, but I thought I saw their fingers touch in the dim light. It was simply a trick of the shimmering candles, I know it was because when Charlotte turns the lamps back on, Annabelle has her arms folded, and Jasper is talking to his father on his other side as Esme serves up dessert. So I must have been mistaken. Although oddly, they both seem to have their hands underneath the table most of the time and fidget constantly, they don't acknowledge one another at all. Even when we make toasts when we have champagne, they don't even clink glasses. Now and then, they blush and cough and look slightly embarrassed, when they catch me looking at them.

Something isn't right. I know it isn't, but I just can't put my finger on what's going on.

"Cream, custard or brandy butter everyone?" Peter asks, wandering around the table juggling the three pots of accompaniments and distracting me as he does so.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of food, drink and laughter and when it's time to leave, everyone hugs and kisses, except for Annabelle and Jasper. As I shove all my presents into a large, brightly patterned gift bag, apart from the oar, obviously, I catch a glimpse of Anna and Jazz talking and waving their hands around animatedly in the corner, near the downstairs toilet. Christ. They look like they're about to start yelling and hitting one another, and I grab my coat and walk towards them in a bid to stop any unpleasantness.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, passing Annabelle her jacket. "Anna, go and get your presents together, it's time to leave. Here, put them in this bag," I say, firmly.

For once, she doesn't argue with me and instead she takes her coat, hat, scarf and woolly gloves, and quickly disappears into the drawing room to the loud melee of laughter and chatter from the totally pissed adults.

"Jazz," I say, scowling, "Can I have a quick word, please?"

He looks at me with wide eyes and his head whips around as he scans the room, resembling a rabbit with its eyes caught in a cars headlights. "Um… yeah… okay, what can I do for you, dude?" he asks, sounding as nervous as he looks.

"_What the hell gives with you and Annabelle? I really thought you'd hit it off. Why don't you like her?"_ I hiss at him.

He looks slightly taken aback but a dark red, almost purple colour stains his cheeks and his throat moves as he swallows hard. "It's not that I don't like her," he mumbles, "It's just that she's not what I was expecting and is certainly nothing like the way Rose described her. So… it was a bit… um… anyway… sooo… er… you two play together… all the time?"

"Well you should know better than to listen to your jealous, bitchy cousin by now!" I laugh, mock punching him on the arm. "You know she can't bear to be anywhere near a good looking girl and hates sharing the limelight_! And yes, we play every other weekend, we train together, remember? But ssshh… I don't want anyone here knowing, and I wouldn't have thought you would have either, Jasper. That's a part of my life I don't want to discuss here. Okay? listen, man, what the fuck is the matter with you tonight?"_

"Well," Jasper says, smiling weakly. "That's all true about Rose, and yes, you're right, of course, I need to keep my voice down. Sorry. Nice to see you again, Edward, I hope we can catch up again before New Year…" he says, sounding weird as he looks over my shoulder.

Something's up with him, I know it is, I just don't know what it is yet, I will winkle it out of him, just not today. He's obviously not going to say and to be honest, standing in his aunt and uncle's hallway, when everyone, Jasper included, have imbibed too much alcohol, is not the time or the place to probe him further.

"I'm ready to leave now, Edward," Annabelle says, quietly, from behind me. "Let's go home. I'm feeling a little light headed and tired."

Everyone comes to the door to wave us off and we gingerly make our way to the car, through the wet, slushy snow. The drive home, through the dark, golden lit streets of London, as we head back to my flat on the south bank, is slow, and we sit, side by side, in relative silence

The frosty atmosphere inside my vehicle matches the frigidity outside in the wintery shower.

The snow has started to fall again, but the flakes are much bigger than before and now land like mini, soft, white, fluffy clouds on the windscreen. The way the wipers compress them into little drifts on the glass is almost mesmeric. So much so, that after driving for no more than ten minutes, Annabelle is fast asleep and snoring loudly. Sighing, I turn my radio on and listen to shitty Christmas music from the nineteen seventies in a bid to keep myself alert and awake.

Anna stays the night again and after a cup of hot chocolate, I unpack my presents, stowing the oar in the large walk in cupboard in the hall. Then, after we take turns in the shower, we collapse onto the deep mattress. This time, we don't even attempt to sleep separately. Instead, we curl up around one another in my huge bed, snuggled up in a thick feather duvet, topped off with a cashmere blanket, as the weak light from the street lamps that creeps in around the edges of my wooden blinds.

Annabelle keeps me awake, despite my tiredness, for most of the night. She's oddly restless and wakes up several times in the middle of the night, crying. I have absolutely no idea what's the matter with her or how to comfort her other than to wrap her in my arms and rock her back to sleep. Watching her closely, I rock her as I stroke her damp, tear soaked hair away from her face. When she is breathing deeply once more, I sit up and continue hand writing parts of my project for Henrietta. I'm wide awake, despite the fact that I'm utterly exhausted. And by the whimpers coming from beside me, Annabelle isn't going to let me get back to sleep any time soon.

The next morning feels strangely uncomfortable and an odd atmosphere hangs over my usually tranquil flat. I wake up far earlier than I'd planned, my arm wet from Anna's tears, and with a crick in my neck from the odd angle I've been lying in. I sneak out of bed and crank up the heating as I wonder if I should or shouldn't ask her what was the matter with her in the night. I've never been any good at dealing with emotions and asking someone else to spill their guts and to open up to me fills me with abject terror, to be honest. I'm guessing that the fact that she didn't even get a phone call from her parents on Christmas Day, let alone a gift of any description, is the reason, but I don't really know and I doubt that she would be that upset over something like that. She's used to their lack of interest in her now so it can't be that. Maybe she's more upset at the distance the Hale's have put between us than she'd realised before… or maybe she's struggling at university… I don't know…

It's a cold, grey, dismal morning. A light damp, clinging mist is swirling across the top of the dark, eerie looking water of the unusually quiet river Thames. I'm standing on my small, ice covered, freezing cold, balcony, wearing my dressing gown and cotton sleep pants. Thick socks and the slippers that Ted and Jane bought me are on my cold feet. I am drinking coffee and trying not to let the odd feeling of dread worry me, any more than it already has, when Annabelle pokes me on the arm. I've been thinking about my assignments and which one I should do first, as well as brooding over the fact that my two best friends can't bear the sight of one another, and I jump because I hadn't heard her approaching me.

Turning around, I'm surprised to see that she's dressed and showered. Her long red hair is still damp and it's pulled up into two large, slightly straggling bunches that hang limply down her back. She has her coat, scarf, gloves and boots on and is clutching her bags, ready to leave.

"Aren't you going to stay for breakfast?" I ask, frowning at her. "What's the matter? Is everything alright? Why are you leaving so early?"

"No, I'm not really alright, I'm knackered and I want to go home. Nothing's the matter, Eddie; it's just that I have things to do, like you do. And I got a message from mum and I have to see my parents tomorrow. I thought they were out of the country until February but they're leaving to go to France, to stay in their chalet, the day after tomorrow. Apparently they were with friends in the country yesterday and were much too busy to see me, or even to ring and say Merry Christmas, as usual. Anyway, they've got a cheque for me. They didn't bother buying me anything, as they didn't know what I wanted or needed, great, huh? Anyway, I need the cash to pay some bills. I've been overspending, as usual, and I have to catch up and do a few things for university this morning. I'd better go home."

"And you told me off for being too anal about college work!" I laugh. Instead of laughing along with me, she just stares at me blankly and nods. "Are you okay, Anna?" I ask, concerned about her behaviour. "Give me half an hour to shower and get dressed and I'll drive you home, you didn't sleep much last night, let me make sure you get back safe and sound. You've got a lot to carry as well. I won't be long. Forget the shower, I'll have one when I get back, let me just get dressed, I'll be five minutes. I'd rather you weren't alone; you were really upset last night. Do you… um… do you want to talk about it?" I ask, nervously, but all the while my inner voice is yelling, _"Please say no! Please say no! PLEASE SAY NO!"_

"No, it's fine, I want to go home on my own," she says, quietly, and however cruel it makes me seem, I sigh a deep sigh of relief because I don't want to have a big emotionally charged talk with her.

"Don't be a miserable cow!" I say, laughing, "Hey! I know what will cheer you up!" I continue, mischievously, "We could play a game. A Christmas game! You could let me give you a _personal _present," I grin, waggling my eyebrows lasciviously at her. She doesn't even crack a smile. "That would put you in a better mood. Anna!" I perservere, as she looks at me impassively. "Why don't you take your jeans and knickers off and bend over the railings. I could then put my fingers between your legs and see how long I can spank your arse with my other hand before you get soaking wet? I've never spanked you before, you never know, you might enjoy it! You love being spanked!"

"No, I don't think so," she says, flatly. "I don't think that would be a good idea and I'm not in the mood for sex. _Well… not with you anyway_…" she finishes, muttering the final sentence that I'm not entirely sure that I heard her correctly.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Anna?" I ask, scowling at her. "You're not in the mood for sex? Since fucking when? You're behaving fucking oddly! What the hell is going on? And you don't want to have sex with me? What the fuck does that mean? Fucking hell, Annabelle! You are every bit as horny as I am! You're always up for sex! Don't you fancy me anymore? In the name of fuck! You were weird like this yesterday as well. What's the matter? Are you sick? Did you miss a period or something? Haven't you been careful? Tell me, Anna!"

"Don't make such a fuss, Eddie," she says, sounding weary. "Of course I've been careful, and I'm not fucking pregnant and just because I'm not dancing and performing sodding cartwheels, or taking you up on your offer of a bit of spanking, and finger fucking, doesn't mean to say that I've got my period! Christ, you men are so damned predictable! I'm just tired; as you've just pointed out, I was restless and I didn't sleep very well last night. I need to go home and grab a few more hours sleep. Please don't bother getting dressed, I can take the underground. In fact, I'd prefer it that way. I'll see you around," she says, turning and leaving my flat without her usual kiss on my cheek or even a 'goodbye.'

…

Feeling deeply worried about her behaviour, I turn my music on much too loudly, before I tidy my flat. I then eat some toast, shower and do some college work in a futile attempt to keep myself busy.

Sitting at my desk, whilst listening to a recording of the Magic Flute by the London Symphony Orchestra with my mother performing as a guest pianist, is usually a very pleasurable pastime for me. But not today. No. Today, I can't shake the feeling that there is something seriously wrong with Anna, not to mention the out of character behaviour from my other best friend, Jasper. No matter how much I try to throw myself into my work or my mother's lovely music.

The next few days drag by and although I try many times to get in touch with Annabelle, I never manage to catch her. Despite leaving several messages on her answer phone and sending her half a dozen texts and emails, she doesn't ring me back, or contact me in any way. I spend the whole day checking my laptop and phone, but all to no avail. And even more peculiarly, Jasper seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth as well. I ring him and ask him to come to a rugby match at Harlequins with me, but he doesn't respond to the message or return my call, and in the end, I go on my own. When I eventually manage to speak to Charlotte, she says that she's been dragging poor Garrett around the shops and that she hasn't seen her son since Christmas Day. She says that he's gone to stay with a friend somewhere in the country, unexpectedly, and that he won't be around until January sometime as he's playing at a big gig in Edinburgh on New Year's Eve. She says that his friend is going with him as well. When I ask who this friend is, she says his name is Andy or some such shit. I don't know who this friend is and neither does Charlotte, and as soon as she admits this, my feeling of unease grows and it gets worse with every passing day.

Feeling at a loose end, and pretty lonely if I'm being honest to myself, although I would never admit that to anyone else—obviously—I do my laundry, washing it by hand to ensure that more time is taken up, and then go shopping. Returning home with bags full of ingredients, I cook for myself, experimenting with several new recipe books, and the fantastic set of knives that Jace and Riley sent me. I end up stocking up my freezer because I've cooked far too much.

Trying to keep myself occupied, I stand on my balcony taking photographs, before I wander London's streets, armed with my camera, I take moody and eerily atmospheric black and white pictures of the wonderful old City.

Yet, despite trying to keep myself busy, an incessant little voice nags at the back of my mind telling me that there's more to all of this than meets the eye. But knowing Charlotte as well as I do, I know that she is nothing if not honest. So, if there was something else that she either knew about, or at least suspected, she would tell me because Jasper is my best friend.

Christmas holidays have always been a difficult time for me, what with having few close friends and even less in the way of blood relations, and I struggle to keep myself busy. Feeling even more adrift from everyone I know, more than usual even for me. I spend far too many hours working on my essays and my own projects, and when I'm not doing that, in between, I wander aimlessly around town trying to find something to occupy myself. I'm not used to being at a loose end like this anymore.

Memories of the lonely little boy who would lie on his bed, counting the bumps in the wood chip wallpaper whilst hand feeding two lonely, unloved cats with cans of tuna fish and giving them water in my toothbrush beaker, flood my memory, and make me feel lost and unwanted once more.

I don't know why, but the lure of the house in Highgate calls to me constantly, and unable to stay away, I visit Ted and Jane several times. Luckily, and slightly unexpectedly, they are delighted to have me there. We spend the evenings sitting in front of the fire, eating Jane's delicious cooking as they tell me stories about the house and my parents. I take Jane flowers, and give Ted a book on cricket, and for the first time that I can remember, the house has a slightly homely feel for me.

Ted shows me around the house from top to bottom. Some of the collections are truly amazing, if a little bizarre. There are glass domes filled with flowers that were painstakingly made from either shells or butterfly wings and although they are very beautiful, I find them too fussy and garish for my taste. I find out that there is an entire hangar somewhere in the wilds of Surrey, filled with the boxes of china Granny had talked about, as well as Christ only knows what else, and Ted says that in the Spring he will drive me down there to look through it all.

I tell him that I want the attics cleared and that I would like him to go through the contents with me soon. Anything I don't want to keep can go to charity shops or auction houses, and everything that I do want to keep but that I don't need right now, can go into storage in the cellars. I don't really know why I want the attics freed, but I do. I just know that the space will be amazing when its empty and the windows have been uncovered, and opened. For some reason, I like the idea of painting it a dark, slightly oppressive colour. I can imagine that it would make an amazing playroom, but as I'm training to be a submissive at the moment, that isn't really an appropriate thought. And I briefly consider turning it into a massive study cum library for my legal work but change my mind because there is already a huge library and a study that both my parents worked in, apparently.

Remembering my father's air of cold disinterest in everything about me, I can't imagine him being the way that Ted talks about him, I just can't. He hated me with an icy air of indifference and from what I can gather; my mother was warm and loving. How the hell did they ever produce me? Sadly, I'm well aware that I'm far more like my father than I am my mother, whatever the exterior shows. And, despite what Esme had said about my kindness, I don't think she's right. Not at all.

After Sunday lunch on my third visit, Ted insists on taking me into the garden to play the same cricket game we'd played when I was a little boy, despite the fact that, I now discover, he isn't in the best of health. I wish I'd got to know them again earlier and when I say this to Jane, she pats me on the hand and tells me not to look back, just forwards.

When I leave Ted and Jane just before New Year's Eve, we set a firm date for mid-January, just before I return to Cambridge. I'll hire an interior designer, and take them with me to the house. I want to make a start of formulating the necessary changes to the building before I move back in and to be honest, I think they're more excited than I am. I know that having me there will add to their workload and after watching Ted today, I realise that they are both near retirement age, and that they need some help in maintaining the massive house.

As soon as I return to Southwark, I find an agency, online, that specialises in both housekeeping and gardening services, and send an email, requesting an appointment to discuss the hiring of domestic and gardening assistance for the house. Ted and Jane, of course, will sit in on the interviews.

The next morning I visit the agency and they all but fall over themselves in a bid to help me when I say my name and where I live. I have no idea how they know of me, but they seem to and the owner mentions in passing that he had provided staff for my father's office in the past. That man seems to sodding well haunt me.

Trying to keep myself busy, I start to trawl the west end shops, I buy for the sake of buying, to be honest, and seem to go for days without talking to anyone but the doorman of my building or shop assistants. I even go to restaurants just so that I hear people speaking. The winter sales are on and I spend far too much money on clothes and CD's and I buy a few things for when I move. I know that the house will have everything and more than I could ever need, but I want to make my own mark on the place.

I buy a couple of paintings when I attend an auction in Bonham's. Three compositions, set in the nineteen fifties of a couple very obviously indulging in an affair, by Jack Vettriano catch my eye. I buy them without having any idea where I'll hang them, or even paying any attention to their price. I buy them because I like them and I believe that is the only reason for buying things. They may be too modern and a little on the risqué side for the grand old pile but I like them and even if they go into the bank vault with my family jewels, I have to have them.

In the evenings, I take in a play or two after I've shopped and eaten, and I catch up with a couple of old school acquaintances at a party in a very smart, and horribly expensive, club in Soho. It's dull and boring and I watch as it turns into little more than a meat market as the girls preen and flirt and the men postulate and strut around as they try to attract a fuck buddy for the night. I'm not interested, strangely, and sit at the bar, sipping a St Clements as I people watch. After fighting off the unwelcome advances of one of the doormen, I return home to a ham sandwich and a copy of the very latest changes to the Health and Safety Executives findings into workplace injuries. Yep. That's how lame and pathetic I'm becoming.

I still can't get in touch with Annabelle, and feeling really worried about her now, I seriously consider trying to find her parents phone number, or even emailing Carlisle to see if he's heard from her, but change my mind. The Hale's had made it very obvious that they wanted and needed time alone so I think better of disturbing them, and don't pursue the idea any further.

After being bombarded with phone calls and text messages, I agree to have lunch with Peregrine because, frankly, he seems to be the only one who has any spare time to spend with me. He asks if I'd like to go to a party with one of his friends at a club that even I know is a gay bar in Old Compton Street. He says that I'm a 'beautiful boy and that he'd like to get to know me better,' and that he's sure some of his friends would find me equally as intoxicating. He then explains that another friend runs a coffee shop in the same street and that his "foam is the talk of the entire area."

I just bet it is…

Smiling to myself, I shake my head and make it very plain, over the phone, that I have absolutely no issue with him being gay. I say that I'm flattered that he's interested in me, but I state, firmly, that I'm in a relationship with an older woman and so I'm not available. This is bullshit, I'm fucking Henrietta, and nothing else, but it seems to be easier than telling him otherwise. I don't say that I'm straight either, because that would be a silly thing to say. Although I think I'm straight, the truth of the matter is that I'm regularly fucked by a man and his wife, and I enjoy both their bodies equally, and I've never been one to lie. I just blur the truth and hope that he will leave it at that.

Luckily, he accepts this without any argument and says that although he can't deny his disappointment, he would still like us to be friends, and that he is sure he can help me with my career choices. He asks who the lucky woman is and I change the subject. It's none of his business, or anyone else's come to that. He's a clever, interesting man, and to be honest, the ruthless, Cullen streak in me appears and I know that he's right. I also know that he will also be highly beneficial, just like Henrietta, to my future career. But I don't want to confide in him, and I don't fancy him, so he can be as disappointed as he likes, because there's no way there will ever be anything physical between us. I don't, however, have any qualms about using his knowledge, connections and acumen to further my ambitions.

I dress is a smart casual manner, wearing tan chinos, a dark cream linen shirt and a navy blue blazer. The only twist to my outfit is a pair of navy blue Converse trainers and after I tackle my unruly hair, I add some of my new cologne and stare at myself in the mirror. Oddly, this outfit makes me look older than I am and I just know that, by the end of the day, Perry will be slathering after me even more. Chuckling to myself, I take the Piccadilly Line of the underground to Piccadilly Circus and hover around, ensuring that I arrive exactly at 1:00 pm.

Peregrine greets me warmly, declaring much too loudly that I look delightful. Standing to hug me and shake my hand tightly, he lingers, holding it a little longer than is necessary, or decent. Smiling, I pull my fingers away, with difficulty, and take my seat in front of him. Before I arrived, he'd been across the road to the Royal Academy of Art. He had bought me some notepads and pens covered in the John William Waterhouse prints that I'd admired in his study, the last time we met. I thank him profusely, and leaning forwards, I kiss him on both his cheeks to show my gratitude for his thoughtful, generous gifts. He squirms and giggles as I sit back down and I smile at the way I make him feel. Little does he know that the real painting is sitting in the vaults of Coutts and Co and that it, along with three others, had belonged to my grandmother and that I now have plans to hang them all in the drawing room of my house.

Yes. I now think of the Highgate property as my house.

Thanking him for his generosity, we chat cordially, sipping martinis before we order. As we sit in Fortnum and Mason's Fountain restaurant—me tucking into Eggs Benedict whilst Peregrine chomps his way through Haddock kedgeree—a couple of his friends arrive and he asks them to join us. One is a high court judge, the other is his boyfriend, who is a top barrister. We spend four hours talking animatedly about the law as the wine flows and we all eat rare, bloody beef fillets.

All three of them have published legal tomes and are highly esteemed in their individual fields and are the cream of the British law society. I have all of their books in my ever growing collection of legal paraphernalia and I'm a little overwhelmed at being in their company, not to mention the fact that I'm a bit pissed and even I think I sound ludicrous, as I giggle at their thinly veiled attempt at flirting with me. They all fascinate me and are genuinely interested in me in turn, and it's quite funny how they constantly try to turn the conversation, subtly, towards my sexuality.

Perhaps I give something 'off' that alerts them to the fact that I'm not averse to fucking, and being fucked, by both men and women, or maybe they can just tell that I'm a horny, deviant little fucker with no scruples about shagging my way towards what I want.

As we leave, all three of them kiss and hug me warmly and then once again I'm alone. I wander—or rather I stagger—around the beautiful, but horribly expensive shop, buying a few bits and pieces to stock my fridge and food cupboard and order a beautiful, bone china, Jasper Conran coffee service for the house in Highgate.

Hailing a black cab, I throw the small hillock of bags onto the carpeted taxi floor and just like that once more, I'm alone as the slushy snow begins to fall in the greying afternoon light.

The next day, I spend hours in the law society's library, thanks to a pass that Henrietta had organised for me, studying hard. The day after that, I even take up Peregrine's offer to visit him in the Old Bailey and sit in his office, making use of his books whilst his secretary dashes around making me coffee and nips out to buy me pastries. This is the kind of life I want. His offices are opulent and grand. He has his own private bathroom and robing room and his PA and interns run around like headless chickens in his presence. When I ask if I can try on his wig and gown, he gets so flustered that he has to rush off to his bathroom. Looking at myself in the mirror, I smile. This is it. This is me. I want to be a member of the Queens Council. I like the grandness, the glamour and the pomp and circumstance but I don't want to be a barrister, I want to be a lawyer, and very few lawyers are admitted to become a QC.

As the days pass, I stop ringing Annabelle, guessing that she must have gone skiing with her parents after all. Suddenly, a little pang of loneliness hits when I realise that everyone has someone to spend quality, family time with, but me.

Unbelievably, I even briefly consider contacting my aunt to see if she is at a loose end, I also wonder whether she has any more cats. I still miss Dotty and Tipsy, but thinking better of it, because however lonely I am, I'm not that fucking unhappy. I pull on my tracksuit and running shoes, and pound the South Bank, passing the London Eye, the London Dungeon and the Shell building as I do so. I run and run and run, not looking where I'm going and only stop when my lungs feel as if they're about to explode and my legs burn, despite the biting cold. My gasping breath hangs in the icy air and my clothes are drenched with a cold, clinging sweat, as I try to burn off the excessive alcohol and food that I've been comforting myself with since returning to London.

After showering, I hit the gym in the basement in my block of flats, and swim a hundred lengths before I collapse on my couch. I have cheese on toast and watch a documentary about Fred and Rosemary West, and the history of the murders they committed, whilst I take down detailed notes to help me with my personal assignment. When I've finished all my work, I attempt to watch some shitty game show before I make some coffee. Taking a cup with me, I sit on the freezing cold balcony watching the garishly lit party boats move slowly up and down the river in the foggy, frigid darkness.

Bored rigid, I start to bounce a rugby ball off a wall, catching it and throwing it repeatedly for hours, until the downstairs neighbours bang on the ceiling, telling me to shut up.

Grabbing my phone, I am just about to ring Clarissa to take her up on her offer to visit her in the frozen wilds of Scotland, but remembering my sex fest date that Henrietta has planned for us, I change my mind.

Instead, on a whim, I message Alice to see how she is. I don't expect her to respond, she rarely does any more, but unbelievably, she messages me back immediately. She tells me that Mistress Shannon, her dominatrix, has agreed to let her have the next day off duty as part of her Christmas present, and that she can spend some of it with me. That is, if I want to, and if I'm free.

I'm delighted and don't try to hide my joy at hearing from her. We haven't caught up in ages and I'm happy that I'm going to be spending time with a close friend who knows all about both factions of my life, rather than a mere acquaintance. Sometimes it gets exhausting always having to keep every part of my existence compartmentalised. We message one another a couple of times and she seems as excited about meeting up as I am. I've missed her and I hadn't realised how much until just now. She asks about my dominant and dominatrix and about Annabelle, but I tell her that we will talk about it all when we meet up.

New Year's Eve dawns crisp and bright. Thick frost clings to every surface making London glitter and twinkle like a Christmas cake, or a sparkly vampire, in the bright sunlight. For a change, the sky is a vivid ultra-marine blue, without a single cloud to mar its beauty. It's a welcome change from the murky grey of late and for the first time in ages, I feel happy. Dressing warmly in jeans, several t-shirts, a thick hoodie and a leather jacket, I jump on the tube as I head off to Kensington Gardens to meet Alice.

She looks so happy and is as sweet and pretty as ever. She's dressed from head to toe in various shades of blue. Blue jeans, a powder blue t-shirt, topped with a dark blue hoodie, wearing a padded jacket on the top of that. She has thick, padded boots on and is wrapped up in a hat, scarf and woolly gloves.

"You look like you're ready to hit the North Pole! Hey Frosty!" I laugh as she flings herself into my arms and wraps her legs around my waist. "Squeeze me any harder there, Alice," I say, wincing as she tightens her grip, "And you'll have to start calling me 'Edwina,' instead of fucking 'Edward!"

We have an amazing time running around the deserted Princess Diana playground as we tell one another about the changes that have happened in our lives since we last spent time together. Who would ever have thought that a twenty year old and someone of almost nineteen would have so much fun playing hide and seek on the large, wooden Peter Pan pirate ship? We persuade a passer-by to take our photograph next to the Peter Pan statue and the memorial to J M Barrie. Afterwards, we head off to the café and scoff cheese and spinach stuffed croissants and drink thick, deliciously dark, hot chocolate topped with swirls of cream and a sprinkling of cocoa powder and spicy chili flakes as we discuss our lives. The mugs feel warm and comforting as we wrap are blue-tipped fingers around them and laugh at one another's bright red nose and cheeks.

Alice seems utterly content living with Shannon and her husband. She acts as their housekeeper-cum-slave, and is paid accordingly. She says that some of her happiest times are when she sleeps in a dog basket in the cage that is shackled to the end of their bed. It isn't a life I could ever consider living but she seems genuinely happy and I'm thrilled for her.

I take lots of photographs of us together and even use my small portable tripod to take some other pictures of us together too. I promise to email them to her in the next couple of days and we discuss whether Shannon would allow her to visit me in Cambridge for a weekend. It seems unlikely, but Alice says that she is travelling to Barcelona in March on business and that it may be possible then.

"How does her husband cope when you two play together?" I ask, as I tuck into a slice of lemon meringue pie that I wash down with a glass of water. "Doesn't he get jealous?"

"Nope. He knows that Shannon needs a woman in her life and that she needs to dominate someone. He is a dominant too and he plays with boys, as well as helping us when we scene together, and they are totally at ease with what one another needs and has. There's no jealousy or recriminations, as long as they are totally honest and upfront with one another. It works for us, Edward. We all love one another and are happy this way. I have my own room as well as a room that I share with Shannon and Maurice. Shannon and I sleep together when the Master is entertaining. He has his own room that he shares with his male subs. We're a happy, deviant, perverted little family, hidden in our own little bubble of perverted debauchery, Edward!" she laughs as she eats her coffee gateaux.

The day flies passed and, reluctantly, we part at the allotted time. She has to get back to Clapham and change before accompanying her Mistress, and her husband, to a party. She is to be demonstrating with her Mistress this evening and has a lot to do in preparation, so we can't spend as much time together as either of us would have liked.

We say goodbye at the large, ornate metal gates of Kensington Gardens, with a hug and a proper, passionate kiss. We grip one another tightly as our tongues swirl around one another's in a sense of frantic desperation. I don't know why we kiss like that, it could never lead anywhere and after hearing her talking about Shannon, it's very obvious that she's head over heels in love with her, but for both of us, it feels more comforting than arousing. My cock doesn't even stir in my boxer shorts as I grope her backside, but somehow, we both need this connection.

Jumping in a taxi, I return to my flat where I have a shower and shave and dress in freshly laundered jeans, a black t-shirt and my puffa jacket. And after packing a small rucksack with clean clothes, toiletries, my camera and large tripod, at, I head off to the Savoy at 5:00 pm, to spend the night with Henrietta. This time, because I'm not due to arrive until 6:00 pm, instead of taking a cab or public transport, I decide to get some fresh air and walk.

After walking along the south bank of the river, I cross the Thames at Blackfriars Bridge and stroll through the Middle Temple, passing the legal chambers as I do so. The large, sprawling lawns sit in front of the masses of solid, square buildings that house much of London's legal system. I imagine that one day, after I've qualified as a lawyer, have been presented to the bar, I may have my own office here. Nestled in the midst of all of these buildings, is the ancient Templar Church with its distinctive pillar, topped with a crusader on a horse. I stand for a few moments in the snow muffled silence before I walk along Fleet Street.

The sun has already set and the white street lights cast an eerie luminosity on the sparkling ground. I pick up my pace and walk more quickly as Big Ben chimes 5:45 pm.

Crossing the main thoroughfare, I reach the Strand. The beautiful art deco exterior of the Savoy is set back off the main road. After I fight my way through the throng of waiting tourists, who are queuing shambolically for an evening performance in the attached Savoy Theatre, I pass the fountain and make my way inside the lovely building.

The reception staff look at me quizzically when I tell them which room I want. They ring through to tell _'Signora'_ Cavello that her guest is on his way. After they give me directions, grinning happily at their slightly confused expressions, I head towards the elegant bank of lifts, wondering if Henrietta really has been married, or if this is a title that she just uses from time to time.

It's an old building and the lifts are slow. Impatiently, I tap my fingers with a staccato like rhythm on the highly polished brass edging of the black granite walls and doors, and my cock twitches in excitement. I haven't even considered wanking since I left Cambridge and scowling, I bite my bottom lip as I try to work out exactly why I haven't thought about sex since I was last with her. Even when I was wrapped around Annabelle in bed, or snogged Alice earlier today, I didn't get an erection. Of course my cock is still hard every morning, every man's is, but not in a sexual way. I've ignored it for the first time in years. I don't have a chance to ponder on these thoughts for very long because the second I go to knock on the door, and before my fingers even touch it, it opens.

Henrietta meets me wearing a black see-through babydoll nightdress and a thong with stilettoes and hold up stockings. She looks me up and down and licks her lips as she parts her legs. Her hair is wild and curly as it coils around her face and neck and she is fully made up. Her nails are a dark blood red, as are her lips and she looks like sex personified.

"Hello, Edward," she says, smiling coquettishly at me. "Have you come to fuck your teacher, like a good little boy? I do hope you've slept well, darling because I'm hungry for your cock… come to me…"

Nodding, and without saying a word, I grab the edges of the lace at the neck of her gown and rip the scrap of silk off her as she squeals in delight. I hold it up for her to see before I latch my mouth onto her, fling my bag into the room and drop her negligee onto the floor outside the door before we're safely inside the confines of her suite.

Slamming her against the wall, I use my icy cold digits to finger her soaking wet pussy and I am relentless, using hard and fast motions to make her cum before I've even taken my coat and scarf off as I grab a handful of her hair and wrench her head backwards so that I can bite her carotid artery.

Sucking my fingers that are covered with her sticky cum, I grin as she growls at me. Kissing me frantically, she starts to rip and paw and tear at my clothes, trying to free my painfully hard cock.

Later, when we're having a small break, she's more than happy for me to photograph our antics. My cock is instantly hard again, despite cumming four times, when she spreads her legs and lets me take close up pictures as she masturbates using her fingers and small vibrator. These are definitely going in a secret file to use as a private spank bank.

"You're so good at photography," she says, appreciatively. The break is essential to give us time to replenish our bodies. Room service delivers an ice laden dish of oysters, with small bottles of tabasco and chunks of lemon, as well as crispy bacon sandwiches that we wash down with vintage champagne and look at the photos on my camera. "Did you never consider it as a career rather than the law?"

"God no," I say, before I eat another Dublin Bay oyster. "It's a hobby and one which I really enjoy but the law is my real passion." I finish.

"Oh and you are going to be a wonderful lawyer…" she coos, "You will be a fucking irresistible bastard in front of a jury… now, tell me…" she continues, "Have you ever fisted anyone?"

"No, I haven't," I say. "I've never even considered doing that."

"Well…" she says, spreading her legs wide apart once more, "Think about it now…"

Suffice it to say, we missed all the fireworks over the River Thames at midnight chimes, because we're far too busy making our own kaleidoscope of perverted motions in the elegant, much too hot, steam-covered windowed room. I did indeed manage to fist her after taking lots of time and care, and using masses of lube, to coax her body to let me in. She convulsed and squirted all over the bed as I suckled one of her nipples and moved my clenched fist frantically inside her stretched body and it was an amazing experience.

We fucked in the bath, in the shower and even when I sit on the toilet with Henrietta straddling me and I'm buried all the way inside her backside. She almost crushed my thigh muscles as she jerked and bounced up and down on top of me. Grabbing her hair, I yanked her head backwards and held her still as I thrust up into her arse, bit her shoulder and smiled as she whimpered when I drew blood.

How her body coped with the abuse I meted out, is beyond me, but she matched me bite for bite, scratch for scratch and has four or five orgasms to my every one.

As we lay on the bed, entwined in one another's arms, with the soiled bed linen wrapped around us, we struggle to stay awake. We looked out of the huge windows as the pale lemon sun appears over the horizon before she sits on my face and makes herself cum as she rides my tongue and nose, almost drowning me as she does so. My jaw hurts so much with the length of time that she takes to cum, not to mention the way she writhes around on top of my face, that I'm convinced it will need wiring when I leave here later.

"Hit me with your belt, Edward…" she purrs, as she licks my balls. "Please, darling boy, hit me hard… I've been very naughty and need disciplining… make my skin burn… do it… please…"

Not needing telling twice, I cum like a garden hose as her skin turns a dark reddish purple under my relentless swipes. She convulses in agony and ecstasy on the heavy brocade cover as I rain blow after blow onto her ripe backside.

When I fuck her backside with the champagne bottle whilst I go down on her, she makes so much noise as she orgasms, that we get a discrete note pushed under our door asking if everything is alright and did we need assistance.

They weren't mistaken really. She was so fucking demanding, saying that two weeks without an orgasm had just about killed her and almost sucks, and fucks, me dry, and I could have done with a bit of help in the middle of the night. That was when she got so enthusiastic as she sucked my cock, that she bit me, and I thought she had circumcised me in her excitement! This morning, I could hardly walk. I limped into the shower after she tried to fist me, unsuccessfully, thank God.

After I leave Henrietta outside the Savoy on the first day in January, I'm absolutely exhausted. I stagger as I make my way home in the freezing cold air, stumbling along the embankment. I can hardly walk and should take a taxi to be honest, but my arms are too weak to lift up, to hail one so I just let my feet lead the way.

Wandering in a very haphazard manner along the embankment, a thought suddenly occurs to me and that is, that over the last fourteen hours, I've pretty much learned more about the vagaries of fucking from Henrietta than I have in months of belonging to the Hales. How odd is that?

How I get home, I really don't know. My jeans rub against me painfully and the second I slam my door closed, I have a shower and collapse on my bed and sleep for twelve hours straight. I don't even wake up for a pee or to eat and drink. From that morning, I don't see anyone else, apart from Ted and Jane, until I head back to Cambridge the week before university starts again.

The agency I contacted came up trumps. After holding several unsuccessful interviews, we find a couple in their early thirties, with three young kids, to help with the running of the house.

Dean and Emily Cope are great. Young, enthusiastic and willing to work the hours that we need, and the three of us agree that they are absolutely perfect the minute we meet them. They have their own house a couple of miles from Highgate and are pretty much able to start immediately. Dean has just left the Royal Green Jackets, where he was a Sergeant Major and Emily is keen on returning to work now that all her kids are at school. Because of the fact that their daughters are all at school, Emily can work from 9:30 am until 3:00 pm five days a week, which is more than enough to help Jane run the massive house and Dean can work unlimited hours, including weekends. He is happy to act as a driver, handyman and gardener and to take the bulk of the heavy work load off Ted's hands. I decide that the garden needs extra care so I hire a man called Jack, who will come Monday and Friday to deal with everything in the horticulture and arbour department.

Because the Cope's don't need me to provide accommodation, I give them a slightly higher salary than was originally agreed upon, to act as a travelling allowance. Everyone seems pretty happy with the arrangement and they are keen to get started as soon as possible. Emily is an excellent cook and loves everything to do with home management and etiquette, having worked as a maid in Buckingham Palace before she had her children. She is delighted with the house and says that she's looking forward to getting her hands on the kitchen and china. I find women and their obsession with china and glassware a little odd but if it makes her happy, she can do what she likes. They are really nice, and Dean is friendly, but keeps a respectful distance and doesn't try to be too chummy-chummy with me.

I allow Ted and Jane to be in charge of their new colleagues, deciding what is needed and don't interfere. However, I do need their help in emptying the roof spaces and ring Ted, asking him to make the necessary arrangements with the new members of staff.

Two days before I return to university, a week before my course restarts, I take Emily and Dean into the attics, with Ted in charge of us all, and start clearing it.

Emily is beside herself with excitement when she unearths box after box of Herend china, and instructs her husband to help her carry it all downstairs to the informal dining room so that she can make a detailed list of it all before she cleans it and either displays it or repacks it. Her and Jane disappear for hours, 'playing tea time,' with the pretty china, Dean says, laughing.

There are mountains of boxes and after working for twelve hours solidly, we're all exhausted, and less than half way through the piles of Cullen shit. I'm shocked to discover stuff from members of my mother's family that I didn't know existed. My maternal grandmother had been a music teacher and her husband was a diplomat. They travelled extensively and their belongings reflect this fact. Sadly, they both died before I was born. I keep some of their possessions, and all the photo albums and diaries, and all things personal and valuable, but I give a lot of the flotsam and jetsam of their lives away.

The Cope's had left their children with their grandparents and after we eat Jane's delicious food, we crack open several bottles of wine from one of the four wine cellars. We all sleep at the house, in two of the ten bedrooms. Obviously, Ted and Jane are in their own part of the house. I sleep in the smaller, pink and cream bedroom on the first floor, two doors away from the master bedroom and I'm somehow not surprised to learn that this was the room that was set aside to be my mother's nursing room for after I was born.

As they continue moving boxes, and the detritus of the Cullen family, the next day, I leave them to it and say that when I'm next in town, I will finish sorting through the rest of the stuff.

I set about looking through some of the less valuable paintings that are stored here, whilst Jane and Emily sort through crate after crate of Waterford and Edinburgh crystal.

Just after a delicious buffet lunch, the architect and interior designer arrive. We sit in the formal dining room, drinking coffee, whilst they listen to my plans. The architect has the original blueprints for the house spread out before him and scribbles comments down on his notepad when I point out a change I would like to be made. This is important to me and I want to make sure that there is no margin for error and that we get everything right. I explain that I would like the family art prominently displayed and nodding, they write everything down. They make the occasional suggestion, but pretty much let me lead the conversation.

I take them on a tour of the house from the cellars all the way up to the attics. They both make notes and take measurements, as well as taking hundreds of photographs and say that they will be in touch when they have drawn up their plans. Without any prior thought, I tell them that I want the attic painting dark aubergine and the aged oak flooring sanded and staining a dark mahogany. I ask for blinds in the same colour as the walls and tiny spot lighting to be fitted into the ceiling.

The interior designer, Antoinette, scowls and says that it will be very dark and claustrophobic, and wouldn't I prefer something lighter, but I say no, I want it done in exactly the way I have stated. When she asks what the space is going to be used for, I say that I'm not entirely sure yet. Actually, that's a lie. I know now that I want a playroom and will have to find an expert to help me fit out my room professionally, but this has nothing to do with them.

I then go on to explain that I want some of the bedrooms, the drawing room, kitchen, all the bathrooms and the Bunten's rooms altered, and I have decided to take most of the paintings, cartoons and drawings out of the vaults and to hang them in most of the rooms. Art is for looking at, not for hiding away and Jane in particular is thrilled with my decisions. I ask for ideas on colours for every room and for fabric choices for all blinds and drapes to be changed in the entire house.

Under floor heating, a new roof, a new security system, total rewiring, a new central heating system and draught and damp treatments are to be carried out. Everywhere is to be painted and I insist that all the original coving, ceiling roses and shutters are to be renovated and returned to their original state. I tell the interior decorator that she has to discuss their room patterns and colours with the Buntings as it is their part of the house, not mine.

Ted squeezes my shoulders when I say that and nods before he quickly leaves the room.

It feels good to be busy and I didn't realise quite how bored I'd been until now.

The designer and architect oooh and aah all the way around the house saying how beautiful it is and that it is a totally hidden and undiscovered gem, architecturally. We discover that there was once a large ceiling lamp on the landing of the second floor that leads to a flat roof. It was, according to Ted, filled in and sealed over a hundred years ago, and immediately say that I want it returned to its original condition. This shouldn't be too problematic because, even though the house is Grade II listed, English Heritage is always keen to ensure that houses of interest are maintained to the highest possible standard.

I make notes saying that I want the original Georgian knot-work garden to be replanted at the front of the house and that I want every window, door and door frame stripping back to its original unpainted state, and to be treated to preserve the wood.

The architect says that he will deal with the entire planning application when I've agreed to his submissions and we leave it at that.

…..

Satisfied that my house and heritage is in good hands, I drive back to Cambridge laden down with home-made provisions from Jane, chutney from Ted and other bits and pieces from Harrods and Fortnum's.

As I struggle upstairs, looking more like a packhorse than a student, I'm surprised to find that Clarissa is waiting for me when I arrive, looking very down in the mouth.

"Happy New Year, Edward," she says, glumly, sighing.

"Edward?" I ask, confused. "Why are you calling me that? You never call me that? You always call me by that ludicrous moniker you insist on labelling me with!"

"Oh, yes, sorry. I'm not really with it today," she says, pulling a yellow sort of hat off her head. Actually, it looks more like a shower cap than a hat and I don't dare ask her what she's been doing. "I'm so happy you're home, Ned. I missed you. I needed a friend to talk to right now and I only have you and Ali and she's still with her family. How was your holiday?"

"It was okay," I say, shrugging, "I caught up with a few people, and Christmas day was nice, and I've been busy sorting out my house, so yeah, it was fine," I finish, dismissively as I drop my bags and fumble around for my keys.

My breath is knocked out of me as she hurls herself into my arms, squeezing me and showering my face and hair with kisses. "Oh, Neddy!" she squeals, as she slithers around me like an overpowering Giant Squid.

"For fuck's sake, Clarissa!" I yelp, "What the hell has got into you?" I continue as I try, and fail, to extricate myself from her tentacle-like grappling.

"I'm just happy to see you and I'm glad your Christmas was quite pleasant, Neddykins. I'm happy that one of us had an okay time, darling man because, quite frankly, I had a horrible time," Clarissa whines, as she cuddles me so tightly that I can hardly breathe.

"What happened?" I ask, managing to get myself out of her clutches and step back, grabbing my bags.

"Christmas was utterly frightful and because he ended our engagement on the thirtieth of December, I was all alone with Alina and Daddy for New Year's Eve. Alina fell asleep by 9:00 pm after she drank a bottle of Advocat, with lemonade, of course, all to herself. She was terribly greedy and wouldn't share any with Daddy and of course, she was pissed. It served her right but she wouldn't even let him have a sip. I didn't know that she hadn't tasted Snowballs before. Granny swore by them. She said they were medicinal and helped her lumbago, but I can't stand the stuff, however, Alina loved it and quaffed the lot in about half an hour. She burped and farted all night long. I had to open all the windows because the smell was awful. The bubbles mixed with the coronation turkey and rice that I'd cooked for supper was too much for her insides and it was vile. In all honestly, it was a bit like sharing a bed with Torquil and Archie, his old black Labrador. Alina vomited for two days afterwards. It was terribly messy. And of course I ruined Christmas dinner by throwing up all over the turkey that I'd just taken out of the oven. Poor Daddy can't bear people being sick, so he moved into the stable with the horses saying that it smelled better in there, despite the fact that they hadn't been mucked out as the grooms all had hangovers. And, oh, by the way, I've decided to audition for Footlights. If I get in, will you come and see me performing? I've decided that I don't want to be an economist any more. I want to be an actress, or a comedienne. What do you think?"

"Why did you throw up over the turkey?" I ask, more confused than ever as I blanch at the thought of her acting. Imagine the poor bastard who tried to do a love scene with her! "And what the fuck happened between you and Torquil?"

"Oh it's quite simple really," she says, sounding sad. "My alektorophobia was kicked off by my present from Torquil and I was very sick due to the shock of it all," she huffs. "Daddy says that the entire holiday was one giant puke fest. He isn't wrong really, sadly."

"I don't know what that is that made you sick, and to be honest, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. What do you mean, Clarissa?" I say, scowling, feeling confused.

"Well, I have a phobia regarding chickens and hens. Even seeing a chicken feather makes me feel sick," she says, sighing.

"Really? That's what alektorophobia means? Wow. That's a new one on me," I say, surprised that she hasn't mentioned it before, "You've eaten chicken curry and chow mein with me, Clarissa, and I've seen you wearing a feather boa a couple of times. How the hell can you be allergic to feathers? But I don't understand why your Christmas present from Torquil would upset you so much. What on earth did he buy you?"

"Well it isn't feathers per se that upset me. It's the entire bird, Neddy. Torqi gave me two, full-sized chickens, covered in proper hen's feathers and plonked them on the table on Christmas afternoon, barely covered in paper. He'd used the same paper that I'd wrapped his presents in! He didn't even try to make it look pretty!" she squeaks.

"But you have decorations made from feathers, I've seen them," I say, frowning, still trying to get my head around this conversation. I need to get my food into my flat before it goes off. The way we're going, I'll still be standing here on Valentine's day. "Clarissa, I don't understand any of this. I've seen feathers on your tree. Hell, I bought you some decorations that were covered in feathers. What the hell is going on?"

"Yes, but they're dyed a different colour so I'm not scared of those," she says, simply, shrugging. "These were stuffed chickens! Why would he do that to me? WHY?" she says, frantically. "He knows I hate hens!"

"Stuffed chickens?" I say, staring at her, not knowing what else to say.

"Yes. Two chickens that he murdered himself and then sent to a taxidermist and then they replaced all the feathers! Can you believe that? He gave me that? They'd even made a cocks comb for the front of the head out of wax! Oh my God, Neddy, I was so upset that I vomited all across the dinner table and destroyed the pigs in blankets and stuffing balls!"

Oh dear…

"Come on," I say, taking her by the hand and leading her into my flat.

Clarissa is still distressed after I've unpacked everything and have made her some hot chocolate, after quickly hiding the feather duster. She soon recovers when she chomps her way through an entire box of jammy dodgers and is thrilled with the new mugs and cafetiere I bought her in the sales though she thinks that the matt black colour is a little dull for her flat…

"Neddy…" she asks as she licks her finger and picks up the few remaining crumbs.

"Yep," I say, removing the plate and refilling both it and the cafetiere. "What?"

"Do you know what Torquil wanted me to buy him for Christmas?" she asks.

"I dread to think…" I say, sitting back down.

"Well, obviously, I usually buy him pants and socks, the same as I do for Daddy, but this year he asked me for a specific gift. I was surprised because we don't usually do that but he asked for something called an 'Ass Training Kit.' I was very upset. Why would he need that?" she says, before she shoves an entire custard cream into her mouth.

Shit. I hate watching her eat.

"What the fuck?" I ask, shocked that he'd ask her for something like that.

"Yes. Now you can see why I was so upset," she continues.

"Yes. Yes, I can, Clarissa," I say, nodding as I pat her hand.

"We don't even have any asses in the field, we have three Shetland ponies, four donkeys and of course the race horses, as well as a couple of horses for bringing the stags down the hills after they've been shot. But we don't have any asses. How can we train something we don't have, Neddy?" she asks, looking confused. "Anyway, he said he bought it for himself and that the game keeper is going to help with the training. I don't understand how he can but I saw him just before I left and he looks very happy. So maybe he has found an ass to train afterall. What do you think?"

I nod weakly and squeeze her fingers. I can't bring myself to tell her what any of this means. "Sounds like it…"

"Should I ask Ali what this means?" she asks, looking at me and scowling. She's such an innocent abroad and I just can't bear to see her hurt.

"I don't think Ali can help you either, love," I say, "Why don't you just leave it? Leave Torquil and his ass training behind and find someone who deserves you?"

"Thanks, Neddy…" she says, sniffing before she stuffs three biscuits into her mouth and grins at me, with difficulty.

….

I spend the next few days unpacking and sorting things out and clean my flat. Clarissa and I go to the supermarket and fill up our cupboards and fridges in preparation for the start of term.

On Thursday morning at a horrifically ungodly hour, I drive back to London and spend the day in Highgate, sorting out the rest of the boxes in the attic before the architect and interior designer return to give me an update. One of the boxes contains some of my mother's gowns that she wore for her performances. Everyone goes horribly quiet, and I say nothing as I carry a couple of them downstairs to the music room. I sit with my face pressed against the slightly musty smelling fabric. The aged odour is mixed in with another smell, and as I rock myself in comfort, with my arms wrapped around the full skirt of the pretty material, my heart lurches at the knowledge that she also wore Arpege. I wonder if, on some sort of subliminal level, if this is the reason I've always felt so close and connected to Esme. They do say that babies can hear, and smell, their mother's in the womb. I don't know if that's true of not but right now, I don't care. I clutch the dress so tightly that my fingers cramp. That is until the damp patch on the silk makes me sit up, blow my nose and make a large pot of coffee and pretend that nothing has happened.

I still haven't heard a word from Annabelle, but as we are spending the weekend together with Carlisle and Katy, I decide not to try to contact her again and will just talk to her on our journey to their house on Friday evening.

When Friday arrives, I feel both anxious and excited at the thought of seeing her again. By the time I'm ready, and waiting for Anna, pacing up and down in front of my large wall of windows, a text arrives from Katy. After wishing me a happy New Year, she then continues to tell me that Annabelle won't be spending the weekend with us after all but that I should make my way to their home as usual.

Panic washes over me, and jumping in a taxi, alone, I head towards their house as I frantically text and email Anna trying to find out what the hell is going on.

By the time we cross the river, heading north, there's still no response. Arriving at the Hale's, I ask permission to speak before we continue. Katy agrees and I tell her that I'm very concerned about Annabelle and how strange Christmas Day had been because Anna and my best friend, Jasper, had seemed to loathe one another without even talking to each other.

She takes me into the dining room and tells me to sit down as she explains that Annabelle has had a few life changes of late, and has altered her limits accordingly.

"What do you mean, life changes?" I ask, confused. "She's altered her limits? What do you mean?" She says that the changes Annabelle has made are private between the three of them, but that from now on, she will be attending training sessions at their house on every alternate weekend, and not the weekend that I will be with them. "What? She won't be here when I am?" I ask, rubbing my nose. "I don't understand. Do I?" I ask, standing up on slightly wobbly legs.

"No, she won't be here when you are, Edward," Katy says, gently. She also says that we will no longer play together, other than at demonstrations and that this is Annabelle's choice, not theirs.

I'm shocked to the point that I have to sit down again and just stare at the Hale's, open mouthed.

"_I thought she was my friend…"_ I whisper, pathetically.

"She IS your friend, Edward," Carlisle says, gently, as he walks towards me and strokes my hair, "Don't forget that, she is your closest friend, along with Jasper. She's just confused and struggling with a few things right now and needs some time to think things over. Give her the time that she needs. Please."

Did I do something wrong?" I ask, weakly, as I sip the glass of water that Katy hands me. "We were fine until Christmas Day. She had a horrible nightmare on Christmas night and I tried to comfort her, but wasn't sure what to do. I'm not good with emo…" I begin, but stop myself. "Um… but maybe I should have done more?"

"No, love," Katy says, sitting down and holding my hand. "It's nothing to do with you. Anna has just moved on. She wants to train to be a dominatrix now. She doesn't want what any of us had together and has ended her time as a submissive with us. We've found a new girl, Jasmine, and she will join us in the playroom next week for Anna's first training session."

"Anna wants to train with a girl? Annabelle wants to be a dominatrix? She doesn't want any of us anymore?" I ask, shocked. "I didn't know… um…" I say.

Carlisle and Katy sit beside me talking to me for the rest of the evening, but I'm not really listening to be honest. I feel hurt, embarrassed, sad and angry that she didn't feel like she could trust me, her supposed best friend, enough to talk to me about all of this. And why doesn't she want to play with me anymore? What the fuck did I do to her?

"Do you want to continue to train as our submissive, Edward?" Carlisle asks.

I nod, "Yes, Sir, I do." I say, not really giving a fuck about anything right now. "I want everything to stay as it was. I don't understand Annabelle…"

"You don't have to understand her, Edward. You just have to accept it. It's her life and her decision. Just leave it at that. She'll talk to you when she's ready, don't concern yourself any more. Okay?" he says, smiling.

"Yes, Sir…" I say and sound unconvincing even to my own ears.

"Well then, I think you should go to your room and get some sleep. We're going to hold a little soiree here tomorrow evening to introduce Jasmine to our friends and we thought we would hold your collaring ceremony at the same time. What do you think?" he continues.

"Yes, it sounds fine," I say, unenthusiastically. I feel like I'm being shoved into a corner, like an afterthought. I'd thought that the ceremony would be something special between the four of us, not a cobbled on event as their new submissive is introduced to the great and the good.

Why I'd trusted Annabelle, is beyond me. Once again, I have allowed myself to feel something for someone and in return, they've left me. Why? Is there something inherently bad about me? Is that why everyone, and everything, leaves me behind?

We eat in silence and to be honest, I don't even know what I'm eating, my mind is whirring in confusion as ridiculous things such as fabric swatches and colour charts mingle and blend with the look on Annabelle's face the last time I saw her.

Before I go to bed, I look at Carlisle, "Will I ever speak to Annabelle again?" I ask him, scowling. "Or is that that? Has she broken all contact with me now? Or will I see her again?"

"Of course you will, boy," he says, holding my hand, "When you decide to leave your submission behind and embrace your dominance, you will once again train together, but until then, we all think it's better that you have a little bit of space between you both. Annabelle loves you, Edward, but she is struggling with the emotions she's feeling right now. You will understand more when she talks to you but for now, we are respecting her wishes and keeping her private life, private. Do you understand?"

"No," I say, honestly, as I climb the stairs. "I don't. Goodnight, Sir, Mistress…"

Entering my room, lit by the small night light, my heart sinks. Seeing the bunk beds makes my heart clench and then finding nothing in the wardrobe, but my ridiculous onesie, I sit down on the edge of my bed and drop my head in my hands.

Rejection isn't, sadly, a new feeling for me. My mother left me, through no fault of her own, before I was born, and my father rejected me every day until I was twelve, so it is no novelty to me. But sexual rejection most certainly is and I feel sick to the stomach. I just never expected Annabelle to turn her back on me and walk out of my life.

Climbing into my bed, I curl up in a foetus-like ball and fight to keep my eyes closed.

…

I sleep really badly and wake up feeling like shit. The house is totally silent as I shuffle my way downstairs and I wonder, briefly, whether I should have gone home last night because my heart just isn't in to this shit right now. I don't feel any better when I force myself to be busy and cooking breakfast, and clearing up, on my own, feels both laborious and wrong.

Carlisle drives me nuts insisting that we 'talk' things over in the morning and he spends ages reaffirming how important my mental and physical well-being are to them and that they have my best interests at heart. He yaks on that if I want to take the weekend off and just spend it reading and spending quality time with them, then I can but I refuse. I don't know what the fuck's got in to everyone. I tell him that I appreciate their care and concern, but that I'm absolutely fine and that I want them to continue with what they'd planned for us. I don't want any of this touchy feeling, emotional bullshit.

"I want you to collar me, Sir," I say, firmly, "Because I genuinely believe that it will help me to focus and know the true meaning behind my submission. Can we please just behave as if none of this crap with Annabelle ever happened?" I ask, meaning that I need to move on. However hard that's going to be for me.

"Are you really sure, Edward?" he asks. "This has to be a decision you make without emotion, it's a serious commitment we're all about to make to one another. I don't undertake collaring lightly. I've only done it once or twice before and to me it shows an emotional as well as a physical attachment that should be entered into only after serious thought and consideration."

"Have you thought about this seriously?" I ask him.

"Yes of course I have," he says, sounding slightly affronted that I even have to ask him that kind of question. "Katy collared me when she began training me to be her submissive many years ago, and I collared Vance, my first male submissive, several years later. We both then collared Ebony a few years after that. I thought I wouldn't ever have that sense of attachment with anyone again, but I did the second I clapped eyes on you, Edward and I want this. I want to show the world that we are tied to each other. But it has to be something you also want."

"I do want it, Sir. I want it. I want it to happen tonight, I want to feel that I belong to you. To both of you. Can we just do it tonight as planned?" I ask, holding his hand and staring at him intently. "Has Annabelle's decisions made you want this any the less than you did before?"

"No of course not," he says, squeezing my fingers back.

"Well then. Why are we even discussing this?" I say. "If you and Katy want it, and I want it and we've all agreed on our limits, wants, needs and requirements, what more is there to talk about?"

Agreeing with me, he leads me to their bedroom where we play together for a few hours. The time drags by and I basically flop about like a rag doll as they pull me around and put me through my paces. When Carlisle tells me that I'm not allowed to cum at all this weekend, I'm not sorry. Although my cock is hard, and I go through the motions of looking and acting excited, and of course suitably submissive, never at any point do my balls pull up in preparation for letting go and I manage to make them both orgasm quickly, using my mouth, before I head upstairs to have a shower and get dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Doing as I've been told, I go downstairs to cook lunch in silence. It feels odd, and wrong, to be doing this on my own. I'd usually be smiling at Annabelle as we do our cooking and chopping, and as I try to trip her up or tickle her without the Hale's noticing as we do our chores.

Using a recipe from one of my new books, I prepare pan fried scallops and prawns, with a Thai Pak Choi salad, followed by sliced, chilled fruit and crème fraiche. We sit at the table and eat in total silence. I know that they're both watching me and look concerned, but I just ignore them and run last night's events over in my head again, for the umpteenth time. Afterwards, I clear everything away and clean up, lost in thought before I'm dismissed to my room to work.

I spend the early part of Saturday afternoon working and at mid-afternoon, Katy knocks on my bedroom door and tells me that she's going to help me get ready.

"Have you finished your work?" she asks, looking at all my books, papers, notebooks and folders that are spread out on the desk before me.

"Almost. I can do the rest tomorrow, Mistress," I say, quietly.

"Come on then, love," she says, "Stand up and lets go into the bathroom."

I sigh when I look at what she's hanging on the wardrobe. It would seem that once more I'm to be attired in a ludicrous outfit. This time I'm wearing black PVC hot pants and knee length, lace up Doc Marten's with a thin black leather leash around my neck. Katy gels my hair up into stupid spikes, waxes my arms, legs, chest, armpits and balls, and adds glitter to my face making me look like a muscle bound Ziggy Stardust.

As she helps me get ready, she talks to me, quietly. "Tell me what you're thinking, Edward," she says, staring at me.

"Nothing," I lie.

"Come on, love, I know you're hurt and confused about Annabelle. Please believe me when I say that this change in her choices has absolutely nothing to do with you, Edward. Absolutely nothing. You are still her friend and nothing will change that, BUT she's having a crisis of confidence right now and as such, she needs to keep herself separate from those that she loves. And she loves you. She needs to clear her own head before she can explain her needs, wants and plans to anyone else. All she knows is that she no longer wants to submit to us. We've accepted that. We were disappointed, obviously, but that is her choice and we have agreed to continue her training. Please give her some time."

Staring at her, I fight to keep the stupid fucking tears at bay before I nod slowly.

"Are you SURE you want to do this tonight, love?" she asks, stroking the side of my cleanly shaved face tenderly. "It doesn't have to be tonight and, to be honest, it doesn't have to happen at all if you don't want this, or aren't ready for this yet."

"I want it, Katy, and I'm totally ready," I say, firmly. "I have no doubts about finishing my training with you and Carlisle, so yes, I'd like to just get on with it."

…

Kneeling in the dungeon in the dim candle lit evening, on the hard, cold, stone floor, I'm barely aware of what's happening as my brain sort of shuts down.

Jasmine is a nice enough girl. She's very pretty and is far taller than Annabelle.

Annabelle.

Her skin is the colour of pale coffee and her tightly curled hair is pulled up into a high ponytail. She has large, full breasts. Unlike Annabelle.

Annabelle…

Her high cheek bones are sharply chiselled and her huge almond, chocolate brown eyes are soft and gentle.

She looks nothing like Annabelle and I suppose for that I should be eternally grateful.

Despite being tall and curvy and quite voluptuous, she is totally naïve and innocent about submitting. She is untrained and this is her first experience in the lifestyle. I imagine that tonight is going to be a scary eye-opener for her and she will either take to it like a duck to water—pun intended—or will run for the fucking hills, when people start copulating all around her.

I felt a little bit sorry for her, earlier in the evening, when Carlisle walked into the room, grabbed her hair, dragged her into the corner and demanded that she strip whilst the three of us observed her. Her face burned and she was mortifyingly embarrassed as I sat on the bunk and watched her get undressed. As she lowered her white, simple knickers, she did everything in her power to hide her hair covered pussy, before Katy handed her a pink PVC thong to pull on.

"That," Carlisle said, pointing to her cropped pubic hair, "Will need to be removed before tonight. Go into the bathroom, Edward, and help her shave."

Doing as he asked, I took her into the bathroom, and placed one of her feet on the toilet cistern whilst I shaved her. Lathering her up with thick shaving foam, I pulled her skin taut and carefully removed her wiry hair. When I parted her lips, she inhaled deeply, but I didn't even raise my eyes to hers at her very obvious arousal, as I kept on shaving until she was smooth and totally bare.

"Don't you feel weird doing that to me when we haven't even spoken yet?" she asked, frowning as I looked up at her.

"No. You learn to do what you're told to do, and when you're told to do it, or you get punished. There's no room for embarrassment when you're a submissive," I say, dismissively. "Get over it or get out. It's as simple as that."

"You're not very friendly, are you?" she grumbles as I wipe her down.

"No, I'm not," I say, sighing, "I'm not going to be your friend, Jasmine. I'm going to be nothing more than the submissive you train with. But I've been told that I'm a great fuck, so you're in luck." I finish, standing up and washing my hands as I feel her eyes burn into my back.

"You were friends with my predecessor, weren't you?" she asks, scowling as I look at her in the mirror.

My face turns red and I sigh, looking at her and frown. "No. We were never friends. We were two people who fucked as and when we were told to. Nothing more."

When we return to the room, she is slightly flushed and her breathing is heavier as she shimmies into the Barbie pink thong Katy had given her and that matches the pink PVC thong, corset and stockings that Katy is now wearing.

Dear God. Katy's dress sense is getting worse and frankly, she could be related to Clarissa in her wardrobe choices. She has a ludicrous shocking pink feathery puff on her arse and another on the top of her head, and with her long, slender legs, she looks like a deviant flamingo. All that's missing are a pair of wings! Even this sight doesn't make me crack a smile and instead, I lower my eyes and stare at a knot in the wood on the floor, wondering what Annabelle would have had to say about her ex-mistress's outfit.

Fuck.

Annabelle...

"Do I get to play with him tonight?" Jasmine asks, pointing at me. "I'd like to. Can I see what he looks like naked before we play tonight? I like him. He's good looking, and he says that he's a great fuck, I'd like to try him out before I meet anyone else."

"No, you won't be playing with Edward for a few weeks, Jasmine," Carlisle says, indicating that she should sit down at the desk. "You will play with Annabelle next week and you are to do nothing but observe tonight. And I mean nothing, Jasmine," he says, scowling at her. "If you misbehave, you'll be punished. I mean it. You will play with who I say, when I say and how I say, and you won't argue. If you don't like it, you'll safe word, and if you disobey me, you will face the consequences! Do you understand me?"

Jasmine's full bottom lip pouts slightly and somewhere in the back of my brain, it registers that she's very pretty and fucking sexy, but still my cock doesn't respond. However good-looking Jasmine is, I don't care right now. She could be naked, standing in a corner, with a lampshade on her head, for all the attraction I feel towards her at this moment in time.

"Yes, SIR!" she strops, saluting sarcastically, as Carlisle glowers at her.

"Dear God in heaven, Katy!" he says, sounding exasperated. "We'd only just fucking well trained the petulance out of Annabelle and now we have a submissive that appears to be ten times as bloody opinionated! Add Edward and his arguing into the equation and I'm going to be bloody well bald by next Christmas! Whatever happened to having calm, pliable bloody submission? Huh?"

Usually this outburst would have made me fight not to laugh, but not today.

No.

Not today.

Because today I hurt.

In fact, I hurt in ways that I never thought possible. Everything my father had done to me, and my aunt, pales into insignificance compared to the way my body aches and throbs right now. I feel betrayed and I feel embarrassed. I'm embarrassed that someone I trusted as my best friend and had involved in my private, non-BDSM life, had turned her back on me and is now choosing to ignore me completely.

Managing to focus on the present, and when I lift my head up, Katy and Carlisle join hands with mine. Just as John wraps a soft black leather cuff around my right wrist, I notice Caius watching me closely. Closing my eyes, I resolutely ignore him as I repeat the words that John reads out. I say that I am now their possession and that my body is theirs to do with as they see fit. But I'm simply going through the motions as they stake their claim and ownership on my mind, body and soul. As my eyes flutter open, I catch sight of Jasmine, who is standing staring with wide-open eyes. She's watching my erection intently as she puts her hand inside her knickers and plays with herself.

She will be in serious trouble for this when the Hale's see what she's doing. And I don't care. They can beat her to within an inch of her life for all I care, because she isn't Annabelle.

For the first time ever, I feel utterly dead inside. Stone cold dead. The only other time that I've felt this type of pain is when I think about my mother. And now Annabelle has added to my lack of faith and trust in humanity.

I'm told to stand in the middle of the room and I feel like it's a cattle market, as everyone walks around me, looking me up and down as if I'm something for sale. I'm surprised that no one measures my cock, weighs my balls or checks my teeth for sodding fillings to be honest.

After I've been bound with coarse ropes, I'm suspended on my back from the ceiling. My hot pants are removed by two peripatetic male submissives, and after I drop my head back, I deep throat Carlisle in front of the audience. The appreciative moans from around the room should make me happy, but they don't. I feel utterly lost and devoid of emotion.

"My goodness, Carlisle," a voice behind me says. "He has the biggest cock I've ever seen! Surely you don't let him fuck your arse, do you? And those balls! My goodness! They're massive! Each ball would be too big for my hands!"

I don't know who it is, but whoever it is, is yanked away by Katy and all I hear are comments about what amazing stamina and control I have, how well trained I am, and how wonderful my throat looks when Carlisle is buried all the way inside of it. Of course there are the usually sycophantic comments, for example, "Isn't he pretty?" and "Isn't he gorgeous?" I don't give a fuck about any of it and just stay passive, hanging like a perverse caricature of a marionette as Carlisle does whatever he wants to do to me. I no longer care about anything.

Stopping before he cums, he pulls out of my mouth before he kisses me passionately. "Mmmm we taste wonderful mixed together, Edward, my darling boy," he says, before he raises my legs up onto his shoulders. After removing the large, bulbous, stainless steel plug that Katy had pushed inside me after she'd waxed my backside earlier in the evening, he clicks his fingers and the two submissives come running, carrying lube and condoms.

"How many fingers can he take?" Caius's trainee dominatrix asks, bending to watch as Katy uses two fingers to stretch me. "He doesn't look like he can take many. Do you fuck his arse regularly?"

"Four when he's relaxed and lubed," she says, matter of factly. "And yes, we fuck his backside often. He feels wonderful inside. Like hot velvet," she finishes, chuckling.

"Have you fisted him yet? Or used two cocks or two dildos on him?" Caius asks, his voice becoming breathless and squeaky as he gets closer to me.

"No, not yet," Carlisle says, as he strokes my balls. "We're saving that for another day. We want to do that when we're on our own, it will be special and I want to savour it, without an audience being present. Now, tell me your word, boy," he asks, raising my chin as he forces me to look at him.

"Law. Law, Master Carlisle," I say, flatly.

"_Are you alright to continue, Edward?"_ he asks, scowling at me as he whispers in my ear, _"You seem a little different tonight, is everything okay? Respond."_

"I'm fine, Master," I say, "I'm trying to be everything you want me to be," I finish, emotionlessly. "I'm fine…"

Carlisle purses his lips and stares at me. "Are you sure, Edward?" he asks. "You don't… don't sound fine. Is it Annabelle?"

"No," I say, lying. "I'm trying to focus and concentrate. I told you before Christmas that when I returned, I would be more focussed and would be as perfect a submissive as I can be. If I don't blur the edges of our relationship, it will make it easier for everyone."

"Right…" Carlisle says, looking confused. "Um… okay… er… continue," he says. Immediately, the two male submissives drop to their knees and begin to suck my balls and rim me before the help my Master to pull on a condom. Closing my eyes, I exhale slowly, forcing my body to relax and raising my legs higher onto his shoulders as he sinks slowly inside my body. He pulls out and pushes in several times, and when he's buried completely inside my anaesthetised feeling body, he clutches my hips tightly as he begins to fuck me. The stretch burns, but I don't make a sound as I hang in my bindings and, dropping my head back, I open my eyes and stare at the tiny lights dotted all over the black ceiling. I totally ignore Carlisle as he uses the ropes to swing me backwards and forwards on his hard cock so that, whilst he remains still, I ostensibly fuck him.

"Where is the pretty red headed toy that you had, Carlisle?" another voice asks. "Has she moved on to someone else? Did you bore her and she moved onto to pastures greener!" she laughs.

"No," Katy says, "Don't ask my husband questions when he's fucking his toy, you, of all people, should know better than that! And don't be so fucking rude and sarcastic, Avril or I'll hoik you out! And if you must know, Annabelle has moved on in her training. She will be back with us next week, but in a different way. And on that note, I need to make sure that there are fresh dildo's, lube and condoms in the alcove," she says, matter of factly, "I'll be right back."

Annabelle…

I miss her.

Tears fill my eyes and I squeeze them shut as Carlisle speeds up his thrusts. "Word… word… boy…" he asks, panting hard in his efforts.

"Law, Master," I say, flatly. "Law."

Grunts and whines permeate the room as people play all around us. Katy uses one of her rabbit hair floggers to swat my chest and arms and I know what she's doing but it means nothing to me tonight. Still I feel nothing but frankly, I've had enough for one day so I swallow and breathe deeply, relaxing myself further as he digs his fingers into my hips.

"So… fucking… fucking… beautiful… perfect… perfect…" he pants out, as his thrusts become more erratic. Squeezing my inner muscles, Carlisle shudders before he cums deep inside me, filling the rubber, yelling loudly as his guests clap and yell their encouragement. In all of this, I don't say, or feel, a thing and I don't orgasm. In fact, if he wasn't constantly massaging my prostate, I fear my cock would have shrivelled as my numb body refuses to feel anything.

"Are you sure I can't make use of his nicely stretched open, slick arse hole, Carlisle?" Caius asks, stroking his pathetic erection as Carlisle carefully removes the full condom. He's standing too close to me for comfort as one of the subs licks my arse again and although I'm not looking at him directly, I can see him through the corner of my eye. "Are you enjoying what the boys are doing to you, toy?" he asks me.

I ignore him.

"Don't speak to my submissive without my permission, Caius," Katy says, pushing him out of the way as she comes to stand beside me. "Please remember the rules of the dungeon. Our laws are to be adhered to, without discussion and our submissive has expressly stated that you are not to commune with him or touch him in any way, shape or form. Do you understand me?"

"Sorry, Mistress Katy," Caius continues, sounding anything but sorry. "He is irresistible, even to a seasoned dominant like me."

"Do as they say, Caius," a familiar voice instructs and my body instantly relaxes again when I know that John is close by. "You are guests in their home; you have been invited to watch the solemn collaring of their boy, so treat them and their property with respect."

Caius does as he's asked and goes to sit on the back of his young male submissive who is acting as his furniture this evening as he spits on his hand and begins to wank his cock slowly, staring at my erection.

"You aren't allowed to cum, remember, Edward," Katy says as she unties me. "Stand there," she continues as I am manacled to the cold stone walls by both my hands and feet. After she spanks my backside several times to warm me up, she takes her favourite wooden paddle to my damp flesh and hits me harder with every smack she makes.

I don't dislike the pain and to be honest, at least when every swat resonates on my skin, the effort she puts into every swipe makes my body move and at least I know that I'm still alive. I don't like the way I feel right now. It's almost as if every nerve ending has been turned off as I stand and stare at the grout between the bricks, counting from the floor to the ceiling as she begins to flog me with her two heavy suede floggers and people murmur their praises at my discipline and behaviour.

"You've trained your boy to be an exemplary submissive, Master Carlisle," a female voice says, "I used to have a deliciously obedient male submissive who was a total and utter pain slut. Whatever I did to him was never quite enough. I miss him but hey ho, we all move on. He was friends with your boy at one time. Anyway, I'm on the look-out for a new toy at the moment. If you ever decide that you want to Part Company with this pretty morsel, please do send him my way. I would like him to feel the way my whips and canes can lick flesh. You, Mistress Katy are a powerful, strong dominatrix, but your right hand isn't anywhere near as hard as mine!"

Jasper.

Instinctively, I know that this is Jasper's ex-dominatrix. I don't know how I do, but I just know it is.

Jasper has disappeared and Annabelle has rejected me and turned away from me. Why? I cared for them both, and showed it as much as I can, and now they've left me. Just like everyone else does.

My heart and stomach lurch when I realise that he too seems to be ignoring me. Have I lost the care of both my best friends? The icy numbness of disillusionment trickles through my veins like anaesthesia and before I know it, Katy is dragging me to the table and instructs the two submissives to administer after care to my floppy body.

"He has remarkable restraint. I don't think I've ever seen a submissive be able to hold their orgasm back like this. You have trained your boy amazingly well, Carlisle," someone else says, but because I have my eyes closed, I don't know who it is and frankly, I don't give a shit. "Is he always as passive as this?"

"No," John says, "No, he isn't. He's sparky and fiery and mouthy and gets punished often. Edward?" he says, stroking my forehead until I open my eyes, "Focus on me, boy. And not on anyone else. Come on, love. Are you alright? Answer me? I'm the Dungeon Master again tonight, boy. I am here to keep you safe. Come on… talk to me. Carlisle, tell him to respond."

"Answer him, Edward," Carlisle orders walking closer towards me. "Talk to Master John, tell him what you're thinking."

Looking up at John, I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to force my tongue to work before I make myself smile and nod at him, "I'm fine, thank you, Master John."

I don't know how I'm feeling, other than a tad bored with all the attention, to be honest, and I want to go to bed and leave them to their fun and games. The level of cold detachment and disinterest that I feel in the midst of all the fucking and debauchery feels odd, even to me, but I can't muster the enthusiasm to do anything about it. All I want to do is to lie, in the dark, listening to my music and have some time to think.

"Carlisle…" a whiny voice says. "It won't take me long to cum, not if I'm buried in that perfect, muscular arse—or even better, between those perfect pink lips. Come on… months ago you did promise me that I could consume him. I think it's wrong to deny me my right. I know you have feelings for this delicious specimen and I agree, your boy is utterly mouth-watering and if he was mine, I would struggle to share him, but I want him. Can I suck his cock? I bet he tastes beautiful and I would happily swallow his load. Can I? Please?"

"No, Caius, you know Edward's choices and limits so the answer is no, and don't ask again or I will show you to the door with the toe of my fucking size nines! We've told Edward that he isn't to cum this weekend, so you won't be fucking tasting anything, now fuck right off!" Katy says, in her usual ladylike manner. Then she gives him a hard prod in the genitals with her long, black painted fingernail.

I don't remember much else, other than John throwing me over his shoulder before he carries me upstairs and places me on the chair in front of my desk. Dropping to his knees, he unlaces my boots before he helps me into the shower.

"Right, cut the bullshit, Edward" he begins as he peels off his clothes and climbs in with me, with a surprisingly large, very impressive, dark red tipped erection and for the first time all evening, desire pools in my belly. "Don't try and fob me off with a lie, it won't work with me. Now, hurry up and tell me what the fuck is going on."

…

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was quite a difficult one to write and balance. Happy Edward was replaced by confused, lonely, hurt and bewildered Edward by the end of it and it wasn't easy to watch his emotional descent.**

**My mum wore Arpege. I lost her sixteen years ago so the perfume reference was a little nod to my mummy. **

**Now, please don't see this as preaching, it isn't. But ever since I began reading, and researching, all about BDSM, my main concern has been that fact that so many people, including writers, espouse it as something that is either filled with violent horror stories, or all hearts and flowers. **

**That's utter nonsense. **

**Obviously, there is some truth in both of those ideas, and you get aggression and abuse the same way as you do in any sphere of life. But the fact is that the truth about BDSM lies somewhere in the middle. Many couples meet, play and DO fall in love and become life partners as well as play partners. Others suffer violence and are seriously hurt during a scene but for the vast majority of people, the lifestyle gives them the power, control or release that they NEED as much as they want.**

**The most important thing for you to do is to be utterly truthful in your wants and needs. There is no room for any kind of doubt or indecision when entering into a proper BDSM relationship. You can't say that you're happy in a poly relationship, when in truth you would like a one-on-one vanilla relationship, with a serious twist of kink on the side. You are going to end up hurt, and not only physically either. A poly relationship is most definitely not for me but it works for others and as long as everyone **

**is in agreement, no one has the right to judge either way. If it isn't for you, that doesn't mean to say that it isn't for others.**

**Below, I've listed suggestions that give you some ideas of what to do if you are genuinely interested in taking part in the lifestyle. Be safe.**

**HOW TO FIND A DOMINANT**

**This is what every new submissive wants to know. How do you find a dominant/master/mistress?**

**Most of what most experienced doms advise is more about protecting yourself in your first steps than finding a dominant or dominatrix. Protection is important because you'll need to take care of yourself, first and foremost, until you find the 'right' dominant. If you would rather, you can consider that you are protecting the property of your future master or mistress.**

**Most of the mistakes and heartaches that affect in new submissives, arise primarily from the fact that they are so eager to find a dominant that they jump into things much too quickly. **

**Read, study, ask questions, and when you've done all that, read some more. Remember to remind yourself not to be so eager to play or find a dominant that you accept the first one that comes along. Beware of anyone who says "I want to collar you now," or "I don't want you talking to other dominants," or even worse, "If you were a true submissive, you'd do what I wanted." Under NO circumstances, agree to play with ANYONE who tells you "You must have no limits if you want to be my slave," or "You don't need a safe word with me, I don't allow them."**

**Be very wary of someone who insists on a private first meeting to be in a hotel room, his home or your home, or expects to play on the first meeting. At all times, remind yourself not to be so eager to play or find a dominant that you accept these demands. **

**Find a local group in your area and go to their munch. If they have an online discussion group, join it. If classes or demonstrations are offered in your area, try to attend to see if it really is for you. **

**Make friends FIRST in the group before you even think about finding a dominant. Try to find an experienced female submissive to help you navigate your way around the lifestyle. If you can't find a 'real' one, find one who is willing to help you online. You'll need someone to bounce thoughts, fears and questions off. **

**A local group can help to protect you with dungeon monitors at play parties, by giving references to dominants that approach you and by letting those that might be tempted to take advantage of you to know that others are looking after you.**

**Learn the basics of safety and don't be afraid to speak up if you are uncomfortable with something that seems to violate any of those basics. RUN from anybody who says, "I have plenty of experience, who the hell are you to tell me that I shouldn't wrap this rope around your throat and leave you bound and alone for a couple of hours?"**

**One of the most important things to learn is to say, NO. It's your right and obligation to protect yourself from harm—both mental and physical. If you cannot say 'no,' then your 'yes' has no value. No respectable dominant wants a doormat. **

**Play the field with unattached dominants and understand that a new, inexperienced sub is particularly attractive to a certain kind of dominant who thrives on 'fresh meat.' They will be eager to mentor or train you and not always in a positive way. **

**They will try to "stake a claim" on you very fast, to prevent anyone else from getting to you first. I'm not saying these dominants are always bad or shady, just be aware that they are out there, and don't let one of them push you into something you aren't ready for. Some of them want a newbie because they are inexperienced and think you won't know the difference. Some just think you're an easy conquest. Some of them aren't really dominants, just domineering arseholes who think being a dominant means lots of blow jobs.**

**Be aware that a 'mentor', who wants to have sex with you, is not a mentor.  
**  
**Don't enter into a poly relationship—as a 'secondary' submissive—if you really don't think you want to live that way. It doesn't matter how wonderful someone is, or how perfect you think you are for each other. He is not going to leave his primary for you, and if he does, then you have to wonder how quickly he may drop you for the next bit of 'fresh meat' to come along.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Ooookaaayy… well, many of you were utterly pissed off with me about the last chapter. Sorry. But Edward HAS to have reasons to be so detached from all emotions that when he meets Bella, he falls apart so that she can help him put himself back together, despite the fact that she doesn't know that she is! And the only way to do that is to ensure that virtually everyone he has feelings for, hurts him in some way, whether intentionally or otherwise.**

**Phew! If that makes sense? It does to me, so hey ho!**

…**.**

**When I say that Katy "sounds more Geordie than ever," I'm referring to her Tyne and Wear accent. **

…**.**

**Now, I was planning on slashing the length of my chapters from now on. I work for up to six weeks on every one and frankly, real life and work are booting me up the bum, giving me less and less time to actually write. I was aiming at putting up chapters of between 8-15k words, but as you can see, this one had other ideas, as usual. I don't plan on updating his pov as often as before either. Sorry, but I really am doing the best I can but I'm so mega busy that I don't have the time that I once did and I really don't want to hand out substandard chapters! I only hope it doesn't come across as forced or clichéd in any way. That would be my idea of hell.**

**I don't own Twilight, the lovely Stephanie Meyer does. I do however own Clarissa et al. This story is rated NC17/MA and if you are of a delicate constitution, may I cordially suggest that you wander off to a different section because this story contains slash, femme slash, BDSM, mild sexual violence and deep emotions. If you want sweet and fluffy, this isn't for you, yet.**

**Thanks, as ever, to the lovely Rima2000 and Laura Mars for all your tweaking and fiddling to polish this up and make it as perfect, grammar and punctuation-wise, as humanly possible and to Joyce for pre-reading and whipping me into shape. She's a naughty girl!**

**A wee review would be greatly appreciated, and constructive discussion—**_**constructive**__**—**_**not vindictive, remember—is always welcomed! And I like discussion, rather than criticism. I do listen to what people like and don't like. When I was told that Carlisle appeared weak and to be a poor dominant, I've been doing my best to show WHY he's like this with Edward.**

**So, back to the story. Our boy is battling with the unforeseen changes that have been foisted on to him and isn't dealing with them very well at all. All of a sudden, everything that he thought he knew, has been yanked out from under his feet. I hope you understand where I'm going with this; I HAVE to destroy Edward's faith in mankind and especially in relationships, so that when he meets Bella, he is lost and bewildered. He will also be able to finally understand Carlisle's behaviour and the way he felt about him. And although I haven't written his time with her yet, I think he may look on Tanya with very different eyes too. She was clingy and needy and he couldn't understand her need to have "more" with him. I hope I manage to illustrate this when the time comes. **

**Hugs from me to you, and without any further ado, let's get on with it, shall we?**

**The girls, dogs and tent and I proudly present:**

**I PREDICT A RIOT**

**CHAPTER 17**

_**Watching the people get lairy**__**  
**__**Is not very pretty I tell thee**__**  
**__**Walking through town is quite scary**__**  
**__**And not very sensible either**__****_

_**A friend of a friend he got beaten**__**  
**__**He looked the wrong way at a policeman**__**  
**__**Would never have happened to Smeaton**__**  
**__**An old Leodensian**__****_

_**La-ah-ah, lalala la la la**__**  
**__**Ah-ah-ah, lalala la la la**__****_

_**I predict a riot, I predict a riot**__**  
**__**I predict a riot, I predict a riot**__****_

_**I tried to get to my taxi**__**  
**__**A man in a tracksuit attacked me**__**  
**__**He said that he saw it before me**__**  
**__**Wants to get things a bit gory**__****_

_**Girls scrabble around with no clothes on**__**  
**__**To borrow a pound for a condom**__**  
**__**If it wasn't for chip fat, they'd be frozen**__**  
**__**They're not very sensible**__****_

_**La-ah-ah, lalala la la la**__**  
**__**Ah-ah-ah, lalala la la la**__****_

_**I predict a riot, I predict a riot**__**  
**__**I predict a riot, I predict a riot**_

**The Kaiser Chiefs**

…**.**

**Previously:**

"**Carlisle …" a whiny voice says. "It won't take me long to cum, not if I'm buried in that perfect, muscular arse—or even better, between those perfect pink lips. Come on… months ago you did promise me that I could consume him. I think it's wrong to deny me my right. I know you have feelings for this delicious specimen and I agree, your boy is utterly mouth-watering and if he was mine, I would struggle to share him, but I want him. Can I suck his cock? I bet he tastes beautiful and I would happily swallow his load. Can I? Please?"**

"**No, Caius, you know Edward's choices and limits so the answer is no, and don't ask again or I will show you to the door with the toe of my fucking size nines! We've told Edward that he isn't to cum this weekend so you won't be fucking tasting anything, now fuck right off!" Katy says in her usual ladylike manner as she gives him a hard prod in the genitals with her long, black painted finger nail.**

**From that point on, I'm not really aware of much else, other than John throwing me over his shoulder before he carries me upstairs and places me on the chair in front of my desk. Dropping to his knees, he unlaces my boots before he helps me into the shower.**

"**Right, cut the bullshit, Edward" he begins as he peels off his clothes and climbs in with me, with a surprisingly large, very impressive, dark, red tipped erection, and for the first time all evening, desire pools in my belly. "Don't try and fob me off with a lie, it won't work with me. Now, hurry up and tell me what the fuck is going on!"**

…

Staring at John, I nod and close my eyes. As I do so, all thoughts of arousal leave my body as my cock shrivels again. "Sorry," I say and as I exhale, my shoulders slump as exhaustion washes over me. "Sorry … I'm really sorry …"

"What are you sorry for?" he asks, holding my shoulders as he stares at me. "Look at me," he orders. As I do so, reluctantly, I sigh loudly. His handsome face is contorted in concern and he looks pale. "You haven't done anything wrong, Edward. I know that you're hurting right now, because of Annabelle, so you are feeling a little off colour." As I shake my head to disagree with him, he interrupts me. "Of course you are, Edward. You're bound to be. Tonight was very badly planned and I have to take some of the blame for that, as the dungeon keeper, I should have ended the scene. You should have spent a quiet weekend, and you most certainly shouldn't have taken part in the party tonight. Carlisle said you were insistent on the collaring ceremony going ahead. I think it was a massive error of judgement on their behalf, boy. I really do. Please tell me, are you sure about being collared by the Hale's?" he asks, scowling as he points at my loosely bound wrist. "Tonight, or any night?"

"Strangely," I say, sighing as I lean back and press my body against the icy cold tiles, "I feel really good about that," I continue, fiddling with the black leather as I stare at John. "I'm really glad they went ahead with it, although I know Katy wasn't happy doing so. Don't worry, Master John, they didn't coerce me. I really wanted it to happen. I'm pretty stubborn and won't do anything that I don't want to, I can promise you that. Somehow, it feels comforting. I needed to feel like I belonged to someone tonight. After learning about Anna … um … well, after earlier in the evening. Everyone I've ever cared for has left m … um … never mind …" I begin, before I look at him and scrub my hand across my eyes. The water from the shower is blurring my vision. Obviously.

"Oh, Edward," he says, gently as he wraps his arms around me and pulls my head down on to his shoulder. "You do belong, love. You do. Katy, Carlisle, me and yes—even Annabelle—all care for you very much. She's just confused right now. Don't be sad, or angry with her, she'll be back in touch with you soon, she's just struggling with her own emotions."

Stepping back, I push him away as I stare at him, stunned. "How do you know that?"

"What do you mean?" John asks, reaching towards me again. "Come here, Edward. Let me comfort you… come on…"

Shaking my head, I push him away. "No, John. Stop. Have you spoken to her? Annabelle, I mean. Have you seen her?" I ask, shocked that he seems to know so much. "You seem to know what's going on. Oh fuck … you've spoken to her. You have, haven't you? Shit … is she okay?"

"Yes," he nods, "I have spoken to Annabelle. I met with her two days ago, but she rang me in a terrible state a couple of days before New Year's Eve. Sadly, I was out of town with my family, staying with my in-laws in Suffolk. They don't know anything about our alternative life-style, obviously, Edward, and I couldn't find an excuse to get away and return to London, leaving my menagerie of kids, and heavily pregnant wife, not to mention a couple of disapproving in-laws, before now. She wouldn't speak to anyone else and to be honest, I was so worried about her, that I tried to force her to contact you, or Katy. I'm acting as her intermediary with the Hale's. Believe you me, she's every bit as upset as you are, and Katy is devastated by the change in circumstances."

"Yeah … well I doubt that, Master John," I say, huffing. "They don't have deep feelings for their submissives."

"You don't know how Katy feels about all of this, so please don't presume you do," he says, firmly. "She thinks of Annabelle as a friend, as well as her and Carlisle's submissive, and can't quite grasp the sudden change in her wants and needs. And you can't possibly be under any illusion about how Carlisle feels about you, Edward. Surely?"

I ignore him, and press further against the cold tiles.

"Before you think otherwise, I was the one who suggested that she had a total break from you all for a few weeks to give her time to sort out what she wants and needs. I told her that she should then return to start her new training at alternate weekends to you, Edward. She needs to clear her mind and focus and she won't be able to do that when you're around. She loves you dearly and I think she needs to separate herself emotionally from you for a little while. You blur her mind, whether you are aware of that fact or not. You are like the brother she never had. Yes, you fuck, but there is a far deeper connection between you and even when your training is over, you two will stay friends. You have become so close, so quickly, that you are almost like an emotional crutch to one another and I think a little distance will do you both some good. You have embarked on a very demanding course at university and you mustn't allow any of this to affect that, or damage your future, Edward. Carlisle and Katy are like preening, proud bloody parents the way they brag about you and what you will become, and they are concerned that this entire thing with affect you badly. Now, come on, let me wash you, massage you and put you to bed."

"Do me a favour," I say.

"Of course. What do you need?" John asks.

"Please stop using the fucking family analogy, Master John. I meant it! It really freaks me out! If Carlisle and Katy are like my parents, and Anna is like my sister, the fact that we all fuck would mean that we are some sort of freaky Mattel game. AKA, 'Incest—a game that all the family can play!" I say, sarcastically.

"You and your sarky gob are going to get you into serious trouble one day, boy," John says, laughing, as he flicks my upper thigh with a flannel. "You should go on the stage; you have a very quick wit. Now, hurry and let me clean you up. You've got have a tonne of lube inside your arse and the remnants of Carlisle's sweat and spunk are splattered all over you. Come on, stand up properly and let me take care of you."

"We spent Christmas day together, John," I say, staring at him, refusing to move as I fight the tears and snot that are threatening to spill down my face. "And she was odd then. I just don't understand any of this. We'd had a lovely time at my Godson's christening the day before so I just don't know what the fuck happened. She had a hangover because she's a serious lightweight when she drinks. I also know that she was very nervous about meeting everyone that day too, but the second she clapped eyes on Jasper, it was like hate at first sight. I just don't know what the fuck is going on with her!"

"Don't worry about any of that now, Edward. Just know that she's quite safe and is being looked after. She's just feeling a little fragile and full of self-doubt. But I promise you, she loves you as much as she always did. She simply needs to work out her own issues and put some of her emotional baggage down, and when she's settled, she'll be back in touch with you. Okay? She misses you every bit as much as you miss her. She told me that she does, but things have changed and she's confused and needs to work things out in her own mind."

"I don't miss her …" I say, so pathetically that I wince at my own stupid weakness and whiney voice. "I don't miss her … I don't want or need her in my life. I don't need anybody …"

"Don't be silly, Edward," John says, as he grips me more tightly and pulls me flush against him. "Of course you miss her. She's your best friend. Showing affection and upset isn't a sign of weakness, you know. It's normal that you're upset and every bit as confused as Annabelle. And, I promise you something, we all need someone. Humans need other humans."

"Who's looking after her?" I ask. "She doesn't have many friends, John. She's even more of a loner than I am. I know that there were just one or two people that she hung around with at university. But there was most certainly no one, other than me, that she would trust with knowing everything about her private life. Especially not her BDSM lifestyle choices and decisions. Christ, she would never confide in anyone but me! What the fuck is happening here?"

"Well she has friends, Edward. Perhaps you didn't know her as well as you thought you did. She isn't on her own, and has people to help her deal with her decisions, I promise you." John says, firmly.

"Oh shit…" I say, as a horrible, and most unwelcome thought worms its way into my brain. "She hasn't got feelings for me that I can't return has she, John? Fuck … that's it … isn't it?" I ask, looking at him. "She's in love with me, isn't she? Fuck it all! It's like fucking Douglas all over again! FUCK IT! Why the hell is this happening? Why can't people just see sex for what it is? It's just a fucking release and a way of getting a good night's sleep! It doesn't have to be all hearts and fucking flowers! Jesus Christ! What's the matter with people? All I wanted was her friendship and to fuck her without any strings attached!"

"No, Edward, she hasn't got feelings for you other than love and friendship. Like I said, she loves you, but she most definitely isn't IN love with you. It's nothing like that. Please believe me when I tell you that she loves you but not like that. I promise you, you don't have anything to worry about on that score." John says, rubbing my upper arm, gently. "Just relax and let the water soothe you, Edward," he continues. "Come on. You need some serious after care. Katy was quite heavy with the floggers tonight, I was surprised at how heavy handed she was with you. Your skin is very pink," he says, turning me around before he runs his hands over my bare arse cheeks. "To be honest, I'm surprised she hit you as hard as she did. I know that she's notorious for her impact play, but I would have thought that—all things considered—she would have been a little easier on you."

"Stop, John," I say, breaking role. "It doesn't hurt. Katy knows what I like and even what I need and I wanted to be hurt. No. I _needed _to be hurt, tonight, because I needed to feel something."

"Edward, that isn't a good reason for indulging in impact play, it can be dangerous if you play when you're mind isn't in the right place. Promise me that you won't play again until you have centred yourself. Promise me?"

"Yes, okay," I huff.

"And as for your thoughts about sex, well, I think you need to do a lot of thinking, Edward. I really do. I understand that you're very young but I've read your limits list and sexual history and you aren't an innocent virgin embarking on a physical relationship for the first time. Surely you've had feelings for someone that you've been physically involved with, haven't you?" he asks, scowling.

"Um …" I say, as I look down, thinking. "I have felt friendship for people," I say, shrugging, feeling uncomfortable. "And I'm still friends with most of them, but I don't feel anything else. A couple of people have found it difficult to let go when I've walked away, and I don't understand why. What else should I feel?"

"Oh, Edward," he says, ruffling my wet hair. "You have so much to learn, boy. You really do. Well, for a start, any sex, whether it's a one night stand, being part of a scene or being in a loving relationship, it should all mean something to you. Yes, it is a wonderful physical release, but it should mean so much more. I don't mean that you should be in love with the person that you fuck during a party or a session with your master or mistress, but you should at least have respect for them. And then, when you find someone that you want to make love to, you will find that it has an entirely different feeling altogether. There is a deep emotional connection when you make love. It isn't merely physical, it's mental, and even spiritual, in the feelings that it drags out of your psyche," he explains.

Ignoring him, I continue. I don't need 'Psyche 101,' thanks very much. I think he's lost his mind and might have taken something that he shouldn't have because he wasn't playing. After all, fucking is just fucking and I have absolutely no desire to make love to anyone, male or female.

"Well, if she isn't in love with me, John, what the hell is going on?" I ask. I'm feeling more bewildered with every sentence he speaks, but I absolutely refuse to comment on any of the romantic drivel he's spewing out.

"You'll have to ask Annabelle when she's prepared to discuss it with you, Edward," he says.

"Now I'm really getting worried," I say. "What's the matter with her? She isn't pregnant or anything like that is she?"

"Don't worry about that right now, Edward," John says, smiling at me tightly.

"Shit, John! She is, isn't she? We've always used condoms and I know that she takes the pill as well. And I don't think she's been ill since we met so her birth control shouldn't have failed … Shit … but I also know that no contraception is one hundred percent safe and that accidents can happen. Fuck … she is pregnant, isn't she? Fucking hell! I don't want to be a father! Not at my age! Not fucking ever! I always had a panic attack that Mistral might have been mine! Fuck it! Now Anna? SHIT! And she's played with that slimy wanker, Caius, as well as Carlisle and fuck only knows who else in the last few months! We'll have to do DNA tests! BOLLOCKS! I don't want this! John! I'm too young to be a father! I don't want to be a fucking father! I don't EVER want to be a fucking father! SHIT!"

"For Christ's sake, calm down! Stop freaking out, Edward! NO! No, no, no, no, no, no! She isn't pregnant, she isn't sick, she's physically fine, but other than confirming that she's healthy and well, I can't tell you anything more, so stop, now! I promised her that I'd keep her secret from you until she was ready to tell you herself. She needs to tell you everything face to face, and it has to come from her. It isn't anyone else's business to tell you anything. Now please, can we just stop?" he finishes.

"But Carlisle and Katy know what's going on, don't they? You know, Carlisle and Katy know and God only knows who else knows!" I say, feeling anger rise in my chest. "So that would mean that it's just me that's she's keeping her secret from, wouldn't it? Everyone but me knows? Right. Her twat of a supposed friend? Yeah? Well, at least I fucking well know where I stand now! I suppose this is another one of life's '_valuable' _lessons that mother-nature keeps on throwing my fucking way!" I say, with so much bitter vitriol that I wince at the level of rage in my voice.

John doesn't answer. Instead he stares at me, looking utterly torn as he gently strokes my wet hair. As he trails his fingers along my cheek, he leans forwards and kisses me lightly on the lips, shutting me up.

An odd feeling almost knocks the breath out of my lungs, and, longing to feel anything but this awful, gnawing, aching pain in my chest, as I sniff back the snot that threatens to run down my face, I cling to him. Unable to help myself, I snuggle in to him and moan as our cocks rub against one another's as he kisses me. Grabbing a handful of his hair, I press my lips more firmly against his and open my mouth.

Without being told whether this is alright or not, I shove my tongue into his mouth and grind against him. "Fuck me … fuck me, John," I say, as I lick and suck at his neck. "I need you to …"

"Don't tempt me, Edward," he says, pushing me away. "Christ … your lips are as soft as they look … fuck! You don't have any idea how hard it is for me to resist you right now. You're fucking gorgeous and I almost came on the spot tonight, watching Carlisle fucking you. They are very lucky to own you, I wouldn't share you if you were mine … and I mean that. I would train you and keep you close at all times. You're irresistible, and I think you play on that and however much I want you, I can't do that. Not only don't I have your master and mistress's permission to touch you, but more importantly, my wife has me on a sex ban. She is punishing me for discussing Annabelle's problems and trying to help a submissive who I have no control over, during our family break, and she's heavily pregnant, so I'm here tonight by special dispensation only. Also, you're not in the right mind set for this tonight. I have to be honest, I'm really pissed off that the Hale's went ahead with the ceremony as it is. And if my wife finds out that I've even kissed you, I'm going to get my balls handed to me and there will be no need to have a secret vasectomy after all!"

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused. "Aren't you attracted to me? Don't you want me? People always want to fuck me … are you turning me down, John? Secret? You're going to go ahead and have a vasectomy and you won't tell your wife first?"

"Katy promised to prepare and send food to our house for an entire week so that my wife doesn't have to cook, if I attended to act as Dungeon Keeper this evening. She also said that she would vouch for my good behaviour, as did Carlisle, ensuring that I wasn't a naughty boy and indulged my whims and desires with any of the pretty young things spread out before me tonight!" he says, ruffling my hair. "And fuck, if I even suggest that I have a vasectomy, my wife will divorce me, she wants at least two more bloody children and I have very little say in the matter!"

"I thought you were a dominant?" I ask, scowling.

"Oh, I am, love, and my wife is a dominatrix, but let me tell you something, pregnant women are not to be trifled with, I promise you!" he chuckles as he steps back a little bit and starts to soap me down with my big, fluffy sponge. "Believe you me, I've had plenty of experience with getting on the wrong side of her pre, and post-natal hormones and it isn't pleasant. My wife seems to have been pregnant for our entire marriage and I have the scars, both mental and physical, to prove that she has a temper if I get on the wrong side of her!" he laughs as he raises my arm and begins to wash under it.

Shit.

I guess that my assertion that marriage and kids weren't for me wasn't wrong. If a dominant can't control his own family life, then what hope would a submissive have!

"Okay," John says, as he steps back and places the sponge on the hook. "Let's get you sorted and we can chat some more tomorrow. I'm staying here tonight to start talking Jasmine through her first stages of submission and training, along with Carlisle. Katy doesn't play with girls, as you know, and to be honest, she's very upset about Anna so she's taking a step away from any kind of training for a little while. Apart from working with you and Anna, for a bit any way. I think that's why she went ahead with the collaring ceremony tonight. I honestly think she needs you to belong to her every bit as much as you need to belong to them. She's struggling right now. They both are. They're used to being in control and you and Annabelle are both seriously wilful and obstreperous. They aren't used to submissives like you two! In fact, none of us are. You really need to consider your future as well, Edward. I truly believe that you're a dominant. You haven't got a submissive bone in your body, that's why your behaviour tonight was so out of character. And that's why I was concerned about you. You weren't submissive tonight, boy, you were almost zombified. No matter what they did to you tonight, you didn't respond in any way at all. Carlisle's cock isn't as big as yours, hell, let's face, not many are, but I would wince if I was fucked as hard as that and you didn't respond at all. Not even when he first penetrated you, Edward. You were like a bloody rag doll and that did worry me. Are you very sore?" he asks as he parts my cheeks and washes my backside carefully.

"No … I'm not sore …" I mutter.

"Are you lying to me?" he asks. When I shake my head, he pulls me closer to him again. "Come on. Let's get all the soap off you."

He washes me as I stare at the glass shower door and don't move. Usually, I'd be panting and aroused as my cock and balls are carefully rinsed and touched, but not now. The knowledge that the Hale's are as unhappy as I am, somehow makes my own sadness worse and I stand,

totally impassive, as I ruminate John's words.

I can't believe that they've all been in touch with Annabelle and yet none of them will discuss what the problem is with me. Do I mean so little to them? Do I? Well of course I do. I'm nothing but a pretty face who allows them to do whatever they like to my body, aren't I?

"Edward?" John asks, "Edward? Love? Are you okay?"

"Hmmm?" I say, turning to look at him. I don't know how long I've been percolating things over in my mind, but the water is no longer running and he has the shower screen open as he tugs my hand as he tries to get me to focus.

"Come on, love, wakey, wakey," he says, scowling at me. "Are you okay, Edward?"

"Yes …" I say, sounding odd. Even to my own ears, I sound very different and as my hands start to shake, my teeth begin to chatter and I wobble on my suddenly unsteady feet. "I'm fine … I'm okay …"

"No, you're not," he says, as he wraps a towel around my body and leads me into the bedroom. "Come on. You're suffering from a delayed level of sub drop and you need proper after care. Come on."

Rubbing me down with a towel, he then lies me down on another towel, on the floor, before he massages me with arnica lotion and I close my eyes as his fingers work their magic on my hot feeling skin. Just as I'm about to drift off into a deep sleep, he pats me on my bum and shakes me a little bit to wake me.

"Get dressed, Edward," he orders, helping me to stand before he hands me my onesie. "Eat this," he says, as he shoves a couple of jelly babies into my mouth. "You need the sugar to counteract what's happening to you. Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm not hungry," I say, looking at the ridiculous garment still attached to its hanger. "Ugh…" I grumble, inappropriately, as I blanch at the thought of putting the stupid fucking outfit on again. "Can't I just wear a pair of boxers to bed, Sir? I fucking hate this thing," I finish, curling my lip as I shake the fleecy monstrosity in his face.

"I know these fucking things are insane," he chuckles, pointing to my outfit, "But they're soft and comfortable and really warm. And just remember something; Katy made it just for you. She puts a lot of love and affection into these things, and don't forget something else, Edward. Annabelle helped make this for you and you'll sleep better in that than you will naked. It's cold tonight and it's not very warm in here," he says, as he fiddles with the radiator. "There … that's better. You need to keep it on the highest setting up here. Attics are always chilly. I'm surprised that the Hale's don't keep it warmer than this … for their submissives … hmmm … that's something else I need to talk to them about. It would appear that there are one or two things I'm really not very happy about tonight …" he muses, before he looks up at me again and smiles gently.

"It's warm enough for me up here, thank you," I say, feeling defensive. "Annabelle and I, um … I'm perfectly capable of turning the heat up if I need to. They look after us … I mean … me …" I finish, biting my lip as I look down.

"Well, if you're sure, Edward. Anyway, Katy has made onesies for all of us and, to be honest, I often sleep in my lion outfit. My wife is much too hot right now, because of the pregnancy you know? She keeps the heating turned off most of the time because of this, and the house is fucking freezing and so the kids and I like to wrap up in these. The tail and mane are a bit of a nuisance and my wife hates it that she can't get her hands on my cock and balls as and when she wants to. It isn't always great. I sometimes wake up in the night, choking on the fluff, but it's worth it because it's so warm and comfortable. My wife loves her Kangaroo one. It has an expanding panel in the front and Katy has even made it possible to carry a baby in the pouch. Which, with the frequency in which my wife gets pregnant, is both convenient and appropriate? She isn't averse to stuffing one in there whilst she juggles the toddlers in the mornings. The kids look like they've all escaped from the jungle book, or Winnie the Pooh, when they wear theirs!"

Nodding, I smile as I zip it up and yawn loudly. "I know Katy just likes us all to be like her little family," I say as John laughs at my Tigger suit. Before I know what's happening, I'm climbing into bed and John pulls the covers up to my chin.

"Sleep, Edward," he says, handing me a bottle of water. "You'll feel better in the morning. I promise you that. Good night, boy. Don't dwell on this weekend's changes. Embrace change, don't fear it. You'll need to remember that as your career progresses, nothing in our lives are permanent or are carved in stone. Apart from the fact that my wife will keep having fucking babies until I have no sperm left in my vas bloody deferens!"

"I haven't done my teeth yet…" I grumble, between yawns.

"I think you'll be okay missing out on brushing them for one night. I doubt they'll drop out after not cleaning them just this once!" he says, laughing. And then he's gone, leaving me alone in the darkness.

Staring at the weave of my white linen pillowcase, I blink back my threatening tears into the heavy silence that seems to wrap itself around me and the room. I don't want to cry. I really don't want to fucking well cry but as Annabelle's face flashes across my mind, a sob escapes my tightly clamped lips.

Rolling onto my stomach, I pull myself up onto my knees and cuddle my pillow tightly as I cry loudly into the silence of my room.

I don't know what's come over me because I never fucking cry! I blame the fact that I've been visiting my childhood house—it was never my home—and that I've found my mother's possessions on the fact that I've become a bloody girlie sap.

Sitting up suddenly, I whack my head off the underside of the top bank and yell out in frustrated rage. "Fucking, bollocking, shit! I fucking hate everything! AND EVERYONE! FUCKERS! ALL OF YOU ARE JUST USING, FUCKING FUCKERS!"

Leaping from my bed in anger, I hurl my tear stained pillow across the room. It hits the desk with a loud thud, and knocks my folders and files off it. Scattering reams of paper, pens, pencils and reference books all over the floor with a clatter, I pick my quilt up and fling it after the pillow. Sadly, it doesn't have the same effect. It flutters to the floor, covering the mess and somehow, stupidly, this makes me even angrier.

"YOU … YOU … YOU FUCKING BITCH! WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS? WHY? WHY? WHY? YOU WERE MY FRIEND! YOU FUCKING BASTARD! JASPER! WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME? WHY? WHAT DID I DO TO MAKE YOU LEAVE ME? YOU WERE MEANT TO BE MY BEST FRIENDS! WHY DIDN'T YOU LOVE ME ENOUGH TO STAY WITH ME? YOU LEFT ME! YOU LEFT ME! WHY? WHY? WHY? YOU WERE MY MOTHER! YOU LEFT ME JUST WHEN I NEEDED YOU MOST! YOU LEFT ME! AND WHY DID MY FATHER HATE ME SO MUCH? WHY? I WAS A BABY FOR FUCK'S SAKE! WHY DOES NO ONE WANT ME? WHY? **WHY?**"

The irrational anger that flashes around my body at the thought that everyone I love, and have had feelings for, has walked out of my life, either on their feet or in a box, overwhelms me. My mother and father didn't choose to die, I know that, but my father did choose to reject me, and to ignore me. As did my aunt, and all the years of pent up anger, resentment and sadness pour out of me in one rush of emotion.

Shouting so loudly that the small window rattles; I pick up my book filled rucksack and swing it. It smacks against my wardrobe door so hard that one of the hinges snaps and the door hangs off at a sickening angle, revealing my winged costume inside. Somehow, the sight of that ludicrous garb makes my anger flame even more brightly and I roar so loudly that my throat burns in pain.

On a roll of destructive revenge for all the ills that have been sent my way, vomit surges up the back of my throat, stinging both it and my nose. In response, I pick up the cheap plastic clock and throw it at the window. The street lights add an eerie orange glow to the night's darkness as the plastic object all but explodes on impact. The shattering sound stops me briefly and I watch in fascination as it lands on the floor in dozens of pieces.

This feeling of aggression puts me on an endorphin high and a delicious wave of euphoric release washes over me. Laughing hysterically, I look around for something else to throw because I want more. Next, I pick up my trainers and sling them at the tiny television, knocking it off the table. It lands with a sickeningly loud, clunking thud on the wooden floor before the screen shatters.

The sight of the destroyed chunk of ancient technology stops me dead in my tracks as I stare at it in horrified silence.

Shit.

What the fuck have I done?

Standing still, I pant and gasp as I fight to get my breath back and calm myself down as I look at the desecration that was once my room. I don't succeed in reigning in my emotions, and the strangled sobs and wailing, sounds pathetic to my own ears, but I can't stop it. I yell and rage and rant incoherently, as thick, bitter tears spill down my face and I wave my arms around in a futile bid to keep them busy.

When I can't cry anymore, I stare, utterly appalled, at the carnage that was once my simple, plain, but very tidy, submissive's room. Unable to do anything about the mess right now, I flop, exhausted and spent, on my bed again. My eyes are fixed and unblinking as I rock from side to side, whimpering softly. I yank the quilt up around my ears, comforting myself as I rock faster.

A creak on the landing outside my room makes my eyes open just as the door opens a crack. "Edward?" a male voice says. "Are you okay now? Do you want me to come in? Are you alright?"

I ignore whoever it is. My throat hurts so much that I don't think I could respond anyway. I'm tired, hungry and thirsty, but the thought of walking downstairs to get something to help me feel better, horrifies me. So, instead, I close my eyes as an exhausted darkness encompasses me, letting sleep take me away and just stop thinking.

…

When I wake up the next morning, a noise akin to a chain saw being used to remove plaster from the ceiling jars me awake.

Frowning, I stare at the wooden bed slats above me and listen to the awful sound. It's either a chain saw, or someone is busily chopping down one of Katy's beloved trees in the back garden. Sitting up, gingerly so as not to bang my head again, I look around unable to fathom out what the hell the sound is and rub my tired eyes in a feeble bid to wake myself up.

The room is too hot and stuffy now that John has turned the heating up to its highest setting and lying back down, I try to go back to sleep as exhaustion washes over me again.

Squeezing my eyes tightly closed, I try really hard not to let the rasping, scratching sound keep me from sleeping, but I don't succeed. Kicking the covers off, I unzip my stupid outfit. The cooler air feels great on my sweat covered skin and looking down; I'm surprised to see that, for the first time in my memory, I don't have my usual early morning hard on.

Huh.

As I roll onto my side and look at the window, and as usual, my hand drops to my soft, limp cock. I cringe when I see that the glass has a large, jagged crack running diagonally across it. I have no idea when that happened. "Oh yes I fucking well do …" I mutter to myself. Closing my eyes again, I sigh as unwelcome visions of the night before flash across my mind.

Christ.

Katy is going to kill me for this shit. I didn't know that I'd broken the window when I'd thrown things around, but then I guess that chucking a large, heavy chunk of plastic at a pane of glass isn't really a very good idea. I've never broken anything intentionally before, and the OCD part of me starts to panic at the mess and destruction, not to mention the lack of respect that I've shown to my master and mistress.

Through the corner of my eye, I spy the wardrobe door that seems to have dropped several inches lower than it was the night before, and sigh. Forcing my eyes away from the one remaining, straining and buckled looking hinge, I look around, and my heart sinks at the mess scattered all around me.

Rain is pounding on the panes and I sigh again as a thin trickle of water slithers down the frame and drips onto the sill before it drops onto the bare wooden floor. Shit. I'll have to go downstairs and tell Katy what I did and then find a glazier to come and repair it for them, today.

My head is pounding and the Godforsaken noise is making it hurt even more. I need water and some kind of pain relief, but they're both downstairs and right now I'm not ready to face the wrath of the Hale's.

Climbing out of bed, I rub my eyes and wince. I ache from head to toe and my arse and legs throb and burn from Katy's ministrations. My face feels tight and stretched and I guess it's from all the crying. Trying not to think about that, I look around and try to find the source of the noise.

I fight not to laugh when I work out what the racket really is. Jasmine is lying on her back, arms spread out and with her mouth hanging open. A thin, silvery trail of dried drool marks her chin and cheek and her pillow is slightly darker, and is no doubt damp, so she's obviously been dribbling for quite some time. Grinning to myself, I grab my mobile phone and quickly take a photograph of her looking less than perfect and then scratch my crotch before I stare at the water running down the white washed wall and place my dirty t-shirt on the floor to catch it.

Rubbing my eyes again, I yawn before I head into the bathroom and have a hot shower. I quickly wash myself and shave in a futile attempt to make myself look presentable. I don't know if we're playing today or not, so I scrub myself down with my loofah and rinse. After I've cleaned my teeth, I towel dry my hair and leave it unbrushed and messy.

Being as quiet as I can, I get dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark charcoal grey t-shirt and tug on my weapon of window destruction, aka, my black Nike trainers. Rubbing a little bit of arnica cream into my sore face, I head downstairs to cook breakfast without disturbing Jasmine. I'm really glad that she didn't wake me up when she came to bed last night and I'm guessing that she was forbidden from speaking to me by the Hale's, or John. All I want is to be on my own for a little while longer and to think about my conversation with John last night. And, knowing how Jasmine was the day before, I doubt she would shut up for thirty seconds together to allow me any peace and quiet.

I stand in the middle of the pristine kitchen and scratch my head as I look around me. I decide to make it a simple fayre, so I choose muesli, fruit, hard boiled eggs, cold meat and cheese, various breads and preserves, and make some coffee, tea and freshly squeezed orange juice. After laying everything out, buffet style, I kneel on the floor, wincing as my backside rests on the back of my thighs, next to the table, awaiting Katy, Carlisle, John and Jasmine.

Silently, I sit and wait, breathing slowly and deeply as I settle myself into the perfect submissive pose. Although I still manage to crane my ears and listen for the sounds of the house waking up.

"Good morning, Edward …" Katy says, as she strokes my hair, making me jump. For someone so tall and ungainly, she can certainly move around silently, if not gracefully, when she wants to. "I believe that you undertook some interior decorating last night, didn't you, love? John tells me that your room will need some extensive repairs. Have you got anything to say to me, boy?"

"Respond," Carlisle says, quietly, as he takes my hand and squeezes my fingers tightly. "Tell us what happened, love?"

"I just …" I begin, looking up at Jasmine with burning cheeks.

"Don't get upset again, and let's not talk about it now," Carlisle says, bending down to kiss me on the top of the head. "Let's just eat and then come to my office, Edward, and the four of us can talk it over."

"Actually," John says, "if you don't think that I'm over stepping the mark in my role as your friend and confident, and if you wouldn't mind, Carlisle, I think it might be best if Edward and Katy talk together first of all. What do you think Katy?"

"Yes, I think that's a very good idea," she says, before she tells me to stand up and take my place at the table.

"Thank you, Mistress," I say, quietly.

After we've all helped ourselves to food, we eat the continental style breakfast in relative silence. They all seem quite pleased with the meal, and when I look up briefly, I see that all three dominants are reading their newspapers, or staring out of the large ceiling to floor length windows, seeming lost in their own thoughts. Only Jasmine seems unaffected by the atmosphere, and she tries a couple of times to talk but no one really has much to say so even she gives up after a little while. I watch her closely as she continues tearing her croissant into hundreds of little pieces as she shoves slice after slice of cold meat down her throat.

The rest of the meal passes slowly and the silence is so overbearing, that it's deafening. The only sounds are of the occasional scrape of cutlery, the turning of a page, or a nervous cough now and then. Trying to focus on my plate and nothing else, I force food down my constricting throat with difficulty. I drink far more water than usual as I shove bits of egg and ham down towards my stomach with the help of a mouthful of much too hot, and far too honey sweet, tea.

When Jasmine and I finish clearing up, after the three dominates leave the room—talking quietly to one another—I ignore her attempts to chat. After I've been for a pee and washed my hands, I head upstairs to Katy's study.

Knocking lightly, I stand waiting when there's no answer.

"Go in, Edward!" a voice yells. "I'll be with you in a minute."

Opening the door carefully, I tip toe into the room, and stand and stare with my chin resting on my chest in abject, stunned silent shock. I've never been in here before, believe you me, I would remember if I had been. It sits opposite Carlisle's room and is the same size and shape, with aged wood floors and long windows, but that's where the similarity ends.

Looking around, my heart sinks as I try to find somewhere to display myself, ready to greet my mistress. Bending down, I kneel in the only free floor space, next to her desk, and wait. At least, I think that it's a desk … it's so cluttered, that the only thing visible are the ornately carved, cabriole legs, so it could be a table … or … I don't know what.

There are files, boxes, bags, books, CDs, DVDs, video tapes, craft and art materials and jars of pickled 'things' on every surface possible. It looks like she has an entire collection of preserved waterfowl on the shelves and curling my lip; I force my eyes to look away from a large, pinkish looking thing in a massive pickling jar, sitting on the floor in the furthest corner of the room. I fucking hope it isn't a flamingo, but that's what it looks like.

In the corner next to the window, there's a massive wooden frame that holds a tapestry. It's covered in what looks like swathes of ducks, swans, cootes and moorhens, and it's less than half-finished. I know what this is because one of my nanny's used to do embroidery and had a frame very similar to this one and she made pictures with flowers and fruit that she used to send home to Latvia. Katy's of course is covered in birds and I would be shocked if it wasn't.

A footstool sits next to me and is lavishly embroidered with an eagle holding a branch or something in its claws, which is a bit of a change of the avian kind, for Katy.

There is little room to kneel, let alone walk, and the office makes the living room downstairs look minimalistic. My legs are wedged between bags of fabric and piles of old, dusty and slightly broken building bricks. I have no idea why they're in here and frankly, I don't want to know. As I look up, I sigh heavily when I see that there are several half-finished onesies hanging from the walls. There's a swan, a flamingo, a pelican and a peacock and I pray to God that none of them are for me.

The walls are filled with shelves that are stuffed to the gunnels with everything from several birds that have received the best a taxidermist has to offer, all the way through to photograph albums, a glass dome of flowers made from butterfly wings and jars filled with what looks like collections of condoms, boiled sweets and bubble gums.

The 'bare,' shelf-less parts of the walls are plastered with pictures, newspaper and magazine clippings, stickers, bits of decoupage, old clothes patterns, loose feathers, badges, pins and clusters of tiny plastic figures that made up elaborate patterns.

Being of a conservative disposition, decorating wise, not sexually, obviously, I cringe because I've never seen anything like it. My head throbs as I look around the kaleidoscopic colours and I rub my temples in a bit to stop the ache.

How Carlisle and Katy have made a success of their lives together is an utter mystery to me. They are total and utter opposites and whereas Carlisle's study is elegant and refined, Katy's is like an explosion of everything you can possibly think of.

A large umbrella stand is filled with large, floaty feathers and there are vases and jugs dotted all over the room, filled with different sizes, and colours of feathers as well.

There are several mannequin dummies in another corner, next to a large table, covered with a sewing machine and rolls of fabric. A sewing box is open and all its paraphernalia is spilled all over the table, on top of squares of material. Partially made outfits are pinned together on the models and my heart sinks. One is a peacock, complete with a massive, vividly colour tail of bright green and blue feathers and an elaborate headdress. A tiny thong is covered in feathers and glittery sequins of the same colours and groaning, I grimace as I look at the other dummy. It's covered in a most peculiar outfit. It's sort of a black bat. It consists of a feathery pair of slightly bigger pants than the other outfit, as well as a mask and rubbery, wide, slightly opaque, outstretched wings. Fuck it. I just sodding well know that these are for Jasmine and me to wear at their next country gathering. I know they have peacocks roaming the grounds and does that outfit mean that one of us is going to have to trot around, waving our tail feathers, for the delectation of their guests? Fuck. It will still be winter and if one of us has to wander around outside dressed in that, we'll get frost bite of the nipple, clit or foreskin!

The thought of their house in the country makes me smile, briefly. I like it there, and it also means that I'll get to see Tom again. Somehow, he managed to find my email address and has been contacting me now and then. At first it was just to say a polite "Happy New Year," but it's moved on a little bit so that now we openly flirt with one another. Wondering whether I should actually give him a blow job in the meadow that he keeps rambling on about, or bend him over and fuck his backside, I chuckle to myself just as the door opens.

"Well," Katy says, in her broad accent, "I'm glad to see that you're obviously feeling better, Edward," she continues, as she plonks herself heavily down into her swivel chair. "Stand up and park your bum on the other chair, love. There isn't much space in here for submission and we won't be having that kind of chat anyway. My room is a wee bit cluttered because I've been busy working on new ideas in here and there hasn't been much time to tidy up after myself," she chuckles.

She's right. The place is pretty much standing room only. So, sitting down, I fiddle with my laced fingers, staring at my knee that is bouncing up and down, nervously.

"So, tell me about last night," she says.

"Um … I really don't have anything to say … and I don't really wa …" I begin.

"Yes, you do have something to say to me," Katy says. "So don't talk crap. You trashed your room. I want to know why. You owe me an explanation, Edward. As your mistress, I demand to know why you did that. I'm not angry; I just want to understand what happened."

"I'll pay for it all to be repaired …" I mutter. "It was very disrespectful of me and for that breach, I'm really sorry, Mistress, but I don't have anything to say by way of an explanation. I guess you'll need to punish me as well …" I say, and as I do so, I instinctively clench my backside that still throbs from the licks she meted out with her flogger the night before.

"Don't be daft, Edward, I don't care about the mess, or what you did or didn't break, it doesn't matter a jot. But," she says, sighing as she walks in front of me and wraps her arms around me tightly. She pulls me close and presses my face into her swan covered breasts. "I'm concerned about you. All I care about is knowing what I can do to help you. And as for your room, don't give it a second thought. Carlisle and John are upstairs now. They're tidying up, with the reluctant help of Jasmine, and they're rehanging the wardrobe door. Oh, and the glazier has been booked for tomorrow afternoon. Wilf is a retired submissive—he's much too old to be able to play anymore, and frankly, he doesn't have the knees or the back for it any more. The last time he was put on his mistress's rack, he slipped two discs. Luckily, Ada is also his wife so she could look after him as he recovered. Carlisle is a bit pissed off about the portable TV," she says. "He has had that for years. Since the early eighties, you know? I hated the damned thing but he said that as long as it still worked, he would keep it. His mantra has always been 'if it isn't broken, why fix it?" Well, you certainly broke it, darling! And personally, I'm glad that little piece of crap needs to be replaced."

"He slipped a disc?" I ask, horrified. "Jesus Christ! What the hell did she do to him?"

"Oh, not much. She just stretched him a bit far before she wedged a large chunk of ginger up his bum. He tried to wriggle about because of the burn and popped a couple of discs as he did so, it was nothing serious. A couple of weeks of lying on a thick piece of board on the floor and he was back to normal. Well, sort of. He's had a bit of a limp since and creaks when he bends to the left, but other than that, he's fine. Anyway, he decided that it would be a good idea if he retired, submissively. He runs his own little company with his son, and does any odd jobs. Luckily for us, he works at weekends as, and when, any dominant or dominatrix in this part of London needs him. He does the organising, and Bert does the work, because of Wilf's back," she explains, as she absentmindedly checks over a pile of napkins on her desk.

"What about his wife?" I ask, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I scowl at her. I'm beginning to wonder if anyone that I come in contact with is in any way normal. After doing a mental inventory of those closest to me, I think that perhaps only Jane and Ted are.

"Oh, she carried on as usual. She dominates a much, much younger boy now. Well, she does when her arthritis allows it, and she still works as a school dinner lady in Chigwell. They're perfectly happy with that arrangement, Edward," she says, when I scowl at her. "I've known her since I started training, and everyone in the community adores them because they're a really lovely couple. Wilf still likes to help out now and then as a dungeon monitor but he struggles to get about on his walking frame on the stone slabs. Although, it's very cute because Ada decorates it with little strips of leather and some studs. It looks good. Anyway, that's enough of that for now. So, come on, tell me what happened, love. I stood outside your room for ages and heard you crying. Talk to me. I'm your Mistress, it's my duty to look after you, mentally and physically. I feel like Carlisle, John and I haven't looked after you as well as we might have and for that, I'm very sorry, boy. This is my responsibility, so, come on, tell me."

Shit. I think she might just be bipolar. She flits from one subject to another far too quickly for my poor, befuddled brain to be able to fathom.

"Edward," she says, sighing, as she sits back and folds her arms across her chest. "I'm waiting."

"I don't want to talk about last night." I say, biting my fingernail. "Please, Katy. I don't want to, and honestly, there's really nothing to tell. I was angry, I threw things around. That's all. Story ended, full stop." I continue, fiddling with my leather wrist band. It feels oddly comforting already, and sighing, I close my eyes and wrap my fingers around it, holding it tightly.

"Well, it most certainly isn't a full stop for me, Edward. Come on. I need to hear your version of events. Please, love. Do you wish that we hadn't collared you yet, or even at all? Were we too rough on you last night? I know I was quite heavy handed with you and as you know, I had my doubts about the ceremony. You know I did. Or is this about Annabelle?" she asks, sounding concerned.

"I suppose it's a mix of everything. I'm tired. University is harder than I thought it would be and they're pushing us really hard at the rowing club, and to be honest, I was feeling stressed before I arrived yesterday. Believe me when I tell you that, at the time, I wanted you to collar me, Mistress Katy. But I think, all things considered, I should have postponed it after what you told me about _her_ decision not to see me ever again." I say. The level of poison and anger that I spit out as I say "her" is obvious even to my own ears, and as I look up, Katy is frowning and pale as she stares at me.

"Edward, my darling boy," Katy says, sighing as she sits down in her seat once again. "Annabelle will be in touch with you again! She hasn't once said that she doesn't want to speak to you! She just needs a bit of space. I'm struggling with her decisions and choices as well, but she is a grown up and I will honour her wishes, however unhappy I am with them and you must do her the same courtesy. And, don't talk crap about university. You're a shining star at Cambridge, everyone says so. A couple of your lecturers know Carlisle socially, not in the BDSM world, don't worry," she says as my eyes fly to hers. "And they say you have a glittering career ahead of you in the legal world. One or two of them say that you are the brightest student of your generation, and none of them praise lightly. And as for rowing, well, it's certainly having a wonderful effect on your body, we were only commenting today on the fact that you're entire shape has sharpened up since we first met you. The definition of your muscles is spectacular. Now, let's discuss why you're so angry with Annabelle. She isn't rejecting you, darling, she really isn't."

"I don't care," I say, trying to sound nonchalant, and failing. "I don't have anything to say to her. Or to Jasper," I finish, folding my arms.

"Right, stop being petulant, Edward," she says, frowning at me. "Just sit there and let me talk and then you can have your say. Okay?" she says.

For the next ten minutes, I listen to Katy as she chatters away, explaining that it isn't personal, blah de blah de blah, and that Annabelle has her own issues to deal with, dum de dum de dum. I stop listening after the first "_She cares for you deeply,"_ bullshit and stare at a robin that's trying to eat something that appears to be stuck fast on the window ledge.

"Are you listening to me, Edward?" she questions as my attention wavers even more. "Edward?"

"Yes, Mistress," I say, "I was hanging on your every consonant and vowel," I sigh.

"Don't be sarcastic, boy," she says. "Look, you need to go to your room and think about things. You're mind isn't in the correct space to submit right now and frankly, I'm beyond pissed off at Annabelle and am a bit annoyed with you for not even being respectful enough to give me your undivided attention. I think that it's best to leave things for now. Do you have much Uni work to do?"

"Some. I've been pretty diligent at keeping up with my assignments, so I haven't got that much to do." I explain.

"Okay, well, I think you should spend some time in your room and get on with the work that you have to do and then perhaps just go over your notes. Carlisle would have patched up the window by now, so it should be watertight until Wilf mends it," she explains. "If you want to talk about anything, Edward, any time, please contact me. I think perhaps we need to address some of your personal issues at some point in the future, sweetie. Okay?"

I stare at her and clench my jaw. No. No way on God's earth am I discussing my family with Katy, or anyone else, come to that, but not wishing to rock the boat, I nod and smile at her tightly.

"Off you go then. And do me a favour," she says.

"Of course, Mistress," I say. I don't actually want to do anything for anyone right now but I haven't got the energy to argue with her.

"I just want you to be nice to Jasmine, Edward. She's a simple girl, and by that I mean, what you see is what you get. I don't think she really has any idea what she's getting herself into but Carlisle thinks she has potential. Caius sent her his way to be trained, so we will see. She met him at his club and asked him to take her on, but he's got his hands full with his trainee dominatrix and three submissives, and what with his accountancy firm just being given a huge government contract, he's much too busy."

"Caius sent her your way?" I ask, forgetting what role I'm meant to be in right now. "Fuck, Katy, I wouldn't trust him to look after a slug properly! Are you sure he didn't hurt her, the way he hurt Annabelle? I'm fucking convinced that he's the reason she's run away from us all!"

"Remember who you're speaking to, Edward," she says, coldly. The icy tone of her voice pulls me up short and I instantly shut up. "You may be hurting because of your best friend's behaviour right now, but that doesn't give you the right to be familiar and disrespectful towards me. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mistress," I say, "Sorry."

"Right, well, I'll let it go this time, but just don't let your guard down again. Now, off you go and try to make friends with our new submissive. You'll be playing with her at the next party. Oh, and by the way, we're having another weekend soiree at the house in the country in early March. John can't attend before then because his wife is giving birth, _again_, at the start of February and he does make such a wonderful dungeon master. We don't really like playing without him being in attendance. So make yourself available for that weekend, okay? It will be the first time that we display you in public, and by that, Edward, I mean it is the first time that you will be taking part in a scene and we will share you with someone of our choosing."

"What?" I ask, feeling uncomfortable.

"You knew we would share you, Edward," she continues, "And Carlisle and I discussed it at length when we were on holiday. It won't be Caius, or his trainees, and we will make sure that they know all of your limits. Okay?"

"Yes, Mistress," I say, feeling far from okay.

"Off you go then," she says, smiling at me.

Turning around, I all but run upstairs to my room.

After I slam the door, I lean, with my back against it and close my eyes briefly.

"You alright there?" a voice asks and when I look up, I see a grinning Jasmine sitting on Annabelle's, I mean, on _her_ bed, swinging her legs. She's wearing nothing but her bra and pants and a pair of white, lacy knee socks.

"Why aren't you wearing your onesie, or proper clothes?" I ask, scowling at her.

"It's fucking hot in here, that's why," she says, jumping down.

"And the master and his friend were up here tidying up after your strop and so I thought I'd give them a bit of a show. They made me put my underwear back on. I was surprised about that. I would have thought that they would've liked to see my titties bouncing up and down as I helped them tidy up. I've got a great pair of boobs. I've never had anyone, male or female, be able to resist them when I get them out. Are they normal? Aren't they supposed to be up for a fuck at any time of the day or night? Huh. Well I'm not impressed, I have to be honest. I'm not getting any cock at all right now. I get more than this when I go to a club on a Friday night! And," she continues, "aren't we meant to wander around naked all the time?" she asks, as she pulls her jeans on.

"No, we aren't." I say, curtly as I plonk down at my desk. She tries to chat to me, but I ignore her and put my headphones into my ears as I pull all my books out of my rucksack. Carlisle has covered the window with plastic and duct tape and the wardrobe door has been totally removed.

"Aren't we going to be getting fucked in their cellar or something today?" she asks, prodding me firmly. "I signed up to get my pussy pounded, not to dust and tidy up!" she laughs, loudly.

I don't like her very much, but because I've been given the morning off to study and spend 'quality time' getting to know Jasmine, I sigh and decide that I should make an effort. It isn't her fault that she isn't Annabelle.

After attempting to talk to her for half an hour, I give up. I had more interesting conversations with my aunt's cats as I picked bits of wood out of the wallpaper in the past, to be frank. She's pretty but I have no interest in her whatsoever and we have absolutely nothing in common.

My stomach begins to rumble and without saying a word, I pack my things away and make my way to the kitchen as I begin to prepare lunch.

From the second she joins me downstairs, she doesn't shut the fuck up. She asks for my email address and telephone numbers, so that we can 'keep in touch,' when we aren't on duty together, and I decline. After twenty minutes of nagging, I give in and scribble down the number of my mobile phone so that we can arrange to meet up to travel to the Hale's together every second weekend but other than that, I make it very clear that I don't want anything else to do with her.

"So, why don't you want to be friends with me, Ed?" she asks, fiddling about with the waist band of her low-rise, skinny jeans, flashing a large expanse of flesh as she does so. She has her belly button pierced and my heart clenches as I stare at the fake diamond hanging from it, when I remember all of Anna's piercings.

"Don't call me that," I say, flatly as I bend over and load the dishwasher, "you don't have any right to call me that. You don't know me, so don't be so familiar. My name is Edward, Edward Cullen. You may call me Edward, and nothing else. Do you understand me? And," I continue, clutching a fork so tightly that my fingers cramp, "you're not here for a holiday you know, you're here to submit. And as such, you're meant to look after your Master and Mistress and their every need and whim. Our job is to prepare the meals they tell us to and to clean up before and after we eat. We clean and dust and wash and iron if that's what they want us to do and hand our bodies over for their use as and when they need it. Now shut the fuck up, put some fucking rubber gloves on and wipe down the work surfaces before you wash the pans, I'll sweep and wash the floor when I've put the rubbish out. Hurry up. Lunch won't be long," I say as I prod the potatoes to see if they're soft.

"God, you're a bossy bastard," she grumbles as she ties her hair back but makes no attempt to do as I've said. "You don't sound very submissive to me. You're more like a dominant. I bet you can spank every bit as well as you can fuck, can't you? Yes… you're lovely… and that cock of yours … well … that could really fill me um … hmmm … you're gorgeous, Eddie. Do you want to come up stairs for a fuck while they're all busy doing what off-duty dominants do?"

"Don't fucking call me Eddie!" I snap. "Fuck off, Jasmine! Only Anna calls me that! Don't you DARE call me anything other than my given name! Get it? I mean it! I'm a trainee submissive, just like you are! Now fucking back off and start doing what you're meant to do, or you'll get punished before you get fucked again! Shut up and scrub the frying pan!"

"Oh, Ed, you're even prettier when you're angry … look at that bottom lip! It's so pouty! Let me bite it! I bet you can suck my erect clit nicely and make me cum in your mouth. Please … do it … oh I like you … I really like you. Do you … um … " she says, shimmying up to me, "That's to say, I was wondering, pretty boy, if you'd fancy playing _'sub and dom'_ with me out, of hours, when the oldies aren't around? You know? I can come to your flat and I can tie you up, then you can tie me up and we can fuck until we're raw?" she asks, grinning at me as she presses against my side.

Before I can answer, and just as her hand slides down to grab my crotch, she squeals loudly and lurches backwards.

"I think you and I need to have a bit of a chat, Jasmine," John says, angrily, as he grabs her by the upper arm and frog marches her out of the room.

Five minutes later, the front door slams and John returns to the kitchen, alone. He doesn't say a word, but he's flushed and his brow is knitted together as he pulls on some bright blue marigold's and begins to help me clean up.

No one mentions Jasmine again and I don't ask anything, but I presume that she's been told to leave and that this is not the house for her to train in.

After sitting together for lunch, Katy tells me that they are ending the sexual side of our weekend early. They insist that I've done nothing wrong, but think that all things considered, it would be best if we didn't play today but they impress that they would like me to stay with them for the rest of the day. They want us to spend some time discussing last night and how I feel about Annabelle.

Groaning internally, because I hate anything that's fucking touchy touchy, feely feely, I nod in ascent as I clean up and put everything away. I take my time, dragging my feet as I pack my things into my rucksack, taking as long as possible in the futile hope that they will forget the fact that they want to talk to me.

Luckily for me, a telephone call saves the day. It is from one of the tenants who live in the flat above Katy's café, saying that there has been a flood from the boiler. This puts paid to their plans for my interrogation, and both of them dash off to Chelsea. As they leave, they throw a twenty pound note at me and tell me to get a cab home and that they'll ring me tonight. John assures them that he will drive me back to my flat and ensure that I get home safely.

He's as good as his word, and after giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, he leaves me standing, waving, on the pavement in Southwark.

Instead of spending the night in my flat and driving back to university the following morning, I pack my car and head north immediately.

The drive back is slow and laborious. Every 'Sunday' driver in the South East seems to be heading up the country and even my mother's usually soothing music, doesn't settle my uneasiness.

My phone beeps several times as I'm driving, but obviously, I can't see who's messaging me. My heart pounds at the thought that it might be Annabelle, apologising and telling me that she's changed her mind and that she wants to still be my friend and that she wants me to turn around and travel to her flat.

"You fucking knob!" I yell at my reflection in the rear view mirror. "Still be my friend? How fucking pathetic does that make you sound?"

The driver next to me stares at me with wide eyes so I dread to think what my expression is like, but right now, I really don't give a flying fuck. I stick my middle finger up at him and swerve to see if the traffic is moving up front. It isn't. I'm angry, hurt and humiliated and I don't give a fuck what other people think about me.

When the traffic stops crawling along and instead, we all sit in a rigid, unmoving line; I take my phone out of my pocket and check the messages with shaking fingers.

All three are from Carlisle telling me that there has been extensive damage of Katy's café and that they will be out of 'BDSM action' for a couple of weeks. Apparently, the entire contents of the flat above the small restaurant are now sitting on what was once a quirky little eatery and that the entire place will have to be rebuilt.

Shit. My heart drops downwards like a brick when I realise that once again, my alleged best friend, hasn't contacted me. Staring at my screen, I chastise myself for my selfishness.

Poor Katy.

I know how much that place means to her. Keeping an eye on the unmoving cars ahead of me, I send them a message back, telling them how sorry I am and that if they need me, I will help in any way that I can.

We move a few feet forwards before the traffic stops again. Sighing, I send Ted a message and ask him to use the house account to send a large bunch of buttery yellow roses to Katy from me. She loves yellow and white flowers. They are her favourite colours and obviously, they match the feathers of her favourite waterfowl. Though, with her new predilection for flamingos and peacocks, I might just have to start adding salmon pink and vivid turquoise flowers too.

Shuffling through my numbers, I stare at Annabelle's name for a few moments before I turn the phone off and throw it on the seat beside me. I can't allow this bullshit to rule me any longer. She isn't going to be in touch and frankly I've wasted more than enough time worrying about her, and hurting because she's walked out of my life. I don't know why I expected anything else.

"Well," I say, running my fingers through my hair, "I won't let anyone do that to me again." Sighing, I stick a very loud, heavy-based, rock CD into the player and turn the volume up. The same oddly detached feeling that had washed over me on Friday and Saturday night, creeps its way up my body. "I won't 'feel' anything for anyone ever again …" I mumble to myself as my fingers tap on the steering wheel, in time to the thumping beat. It might sound churlish, but I mean it. If I can separate myself from any kind of emotional attachment with anyone, other than Ted, Jane and Mistral, then no one will ever get under my skin and cause me pain again.

The journey back to college usually takes me an hour and a half at the most, but because of the tailback of traffic, it takes me a mind numbing three hours, and by the time I arrive at my lodgings, I'm in a filthy mood.

Returning to Cambridge is an odd experience to be honest. The first two weeks are so busy that I don't even have time to think about Annabelle and Jasper—well, not very often anyway. Clarissa has thrown herself into becoming an entertainer with more gusto than I would have given her credit for and neither of us really has much time to catch up any more. Strangely, I miss her but of course I don't tell her that. When we do manage to snatch a takeaway together, the second weekend of term, she gets utterly pissed and sobs and snots all over me telling me that she loves me and wants to marry me.

She's talking shit, obviously, but as she wraps herself around me, and blubs, I rock her gently and talk to her quietly as I try to calm her down and attempt to cover her body. She's wearing the smallest, tightest pair of hot pants that I've ever seen with a tiny bra top and I take my jacket off and wrap it around her to stop people ridiculing her.

She sleeps in my bed when we stagger back from the pub, and I sleep on top of the duvet, beside her, and stroke her straggly hair. She is very upset about Torquil, and is using her free time to hone her newly found craft. She and Ali have decided to go into a magician partnership and to perform as often as they can to anyone who will pay to see them. They play to about three people a night usually, but I explain to them that most big 'stars' began their careers in this way.

Unfortunately, neither of them has any kind of magic training and when Ali tries to cut Clarissa's hand off as a practice run for sawing her in half, it all goes horribly wrong and I have to take her, at great speed, to the local casualty department and have her wrist stitched. That puts an end to their foray into the world of entertainment for a little while and instead, they both turn their attention to singing. They both write their own material and perform songs from the eighties. Bucks Fizz, Tears for Fears and Depeche Mode seem to be their artists of choice. Listening to them singing 'Master and Servant,' whilst wearing latex, rubber and spiky collars has been quite hard for me to stomach, but being a good friend, I've persevered. Luckily they don't know about my connection to the world of BDSM and seeing them dressed like that, I start to doubt that I will ever get an erection when surrounded by leather again.

It almost became too much when Clarissa started leading Ali around the stage with a collar and lead and the audience of five, including me, burst out laughing at their caterwalling. Yeah, it's safe to say that they're utterly useless when it comes to performing but bless them, they keep right on trying. I've gone through several dozen pairs of ear plugs as I sit, grinning a faux smile, as I suffer through their rehearsals. Thank fuck I have most of my essays saved on my MP3 player and so I can sit and study even when it looks like I'm giving them my full attention.

Clarissa likes my leather wrist band and says that it gives me an edgy, rocker like look. She's talking crap. It's a totally plain, thin leather strap. There's nothing edgy or outlandish about it at all. The rowing boys find my new embellishment a little odd, but once I start wearing a chunky waterproof watch on top of it, no one really notices it anymore.

Ted and Jane have taken to contacting me daily, telling me all the exciting details about the planned renovations to the house. The Cullen name seems to have oiled palms and encouraged the planning department to allow all the required changes to be made to the listed property. When everything has been given the green light, and an appointment has been made for me to meet up with the architects and designers to finalise all my plans, I tell Jane to start choosing fabrics and colours for her flat. Their home is _their_ home and I don't interfere in what they want to have in it because it's none of my business. I will just pay the bills and leave the rest to them and the decorator. Ted invites me over for supper at the weekend to show me their choices and he seems genuinely disappointed when I explain that I have masses of course work to do and that I won't be back in town for a couple of weeks.

Katy and Carlisle are in regular contact too, and I'm a little bit surprised at the level of enthusiasm with which they have thrown themselves into finding a new submissive. Despite saying that they were much too busy to take part in the world of BDSM, they seem to have changed their mind pretty damned rapidly. Katy certainly hasn't taken a backward step from her lifestyle involvement and seems even more excited than Carlisle is with regard to their new play toy.

It would appear that they have taken on, and signed an interim agreement with a young girl called Milly Jones. Although my heart sinks when they tell me about this and that they have begun to train her already, the more I think about it, the more I think it's a good idea as it keeps them busy.

Now that Katy has no sort of catering business to occupy her time, and no napkins to fold, until it's rebuilt, she needs something to fill her days. Although she doesn't fuck girls, she has no issue with beating them and tying them up as she helps to train them. She loves to plan scenes and to instruct Carlisle as he plays, and from what she says, she seems to actually really like the new girl. I'm pleased for them, and try very hard not to think about the one who came before her or allow my own sadness to mar their happiness.

Three weeks after the flood that wiped out Katy's café, and after our last meeting, I dash back to London after my one and only lecture before lunch. I spend a couple of hours sorting through my mail and emptying the fridge in my flat before I visit Ted and Jane, and am delighted when they ask me to have afternoon tea with them.

After looking through the fabrics and designs that have been delivered to them, and eating far too many scones with jam and cream, and fruit cake, I hug them both goodbye and drive across London to the Hale's.

They are far more affectionate than usual, as they greet me. And, unlike our normal routine, I'm instructed to leave my bags in the front hall and head into the kitchen. We chat for a while and they introduce me to Milly. After I've freshened up, we eat an informal dinner together and talk in a reasonably relaxed, almost 'off duty' manner, as we tuck into a delicious roast dinner.

Milly seems to be the total antithesis of the verbose, almost vulgar, Jasmine, and even of the feisty, sparky Annabelle. She barely speaks and struggles to look at me even when I attempt to talk to her. Katy explains that she's quite shy and timid, which, to me, seems a very odd way to be if you are going to be fucked in public by all and sundry at the behest of your Dominant and Dominatrix.

Looking at her closely, I feel a little bit concerned by what I see. She's so small that I wonder if I will ever be allowed anywhere near her. She looks like she would snap if I bent her over and fucked her and I'm damned certain that her small mouth and narrow hips mean that my cock will never be allowed anywhere near the three offices hidden within. She can't be much over five feet tall and her hands and feet are tiny. I could easily carry her under one arm without even breaking a sweat.

Her hair hangs down in a smooth, straight sheet all the way down her back and my fingers twitch as I fight the urge to touch it. It's so fair that it looks silvery in its white blondeness and her eyes are a very pale, sea foam shade of green.

She's pretty, in a sort of little girly way, but I'm not particularly attracted to her and her voice is so faint, and almost monotone, that she doesn't interest me at all. I liked Annabelle and her fiery comebacks and sarky mouth from day one. The way that she resented me and fought against me appealed to me immediately. I didn't fancy her the way that I lusted after Jace, but still, I loved our time together, and looking at the girl in front of me, who is dressed in leggings and a long jumper, my heart doesn't flutter. She is so thin that she almost looks emaciated and because of this, her head seems too big for her neck to hold up.

Annabelle…

I miss her so much that my heart and stomach clench at the mere thought of her name. However hard I throw myself into my work, at the back of my mind, I'm always thinking of her and Jasper. Every time my phone or computer 'beeps,' alerting me to the fact that I have a message of some description, butterflies of excitement fly up to my chest and flutter around expectantly. That is, until I read it and realise that yet again, it isn't a response from either of them.

Why have they walked out of my life? Why? Did I do something wrong?

Well, I'm cold, heartless and unfeeling so it isn't any wonder that they both left me. Everyone leaves me eventually. But I've got to stop thinking like that. It does nothing but rip the scab off my barely healed hurt. Besides, she's made no attempt to contact me or to return my messages so it's abundantly clear to me that she no longer wants, or needs, me in her life.

Turning my attention back to the kitchen table, I watch Carlisle as he teases his wife. They touch and kiss one another all the time and it would appear that their time away from us all reignited their relationship, just as Katy had planned.

Milly is very quiet as she picks her way through her food, barely eating a scrap as she surrupticiously watches me from the corner of her eye. However pretty she is, I'm really not very interested in her or even in playing with her, so, as rude as it might sound, I ignore her most of the time.

When Carlisle and Katy ask if I'm still happy with the physical manifestation of their ownership as Katy strokes my 'collar.' Milly's eyes open wide as she realises what the thin leather on my wrist means in the lifestyle.

Once we've finished eating, Milly and I clean up and still don't speak to one another. Oddly, we move around each other easily and fluidly and it feels strangely comfortable despite the fact that we don't know each other and haven't interacted before.

Returning to the table, Carlisle says that they think that it will be a very good idea if I don't play with them properly when we go downstairs to their dungeon play room. Instead, they want me to watch as Carlisle puts Milly through her paces and Katy asks me for suggestions for her training. Scowling, I ask her what she means and she says that they think I should help with Milly's training. They say that they want to encourage and promote my dominant tendencies because they think that I'm more of a 'switch' than I am a submissive.

Although this has been mentioned to me a few times in the past, I've never really considered that I could be both, instead of one thing or the other.

No one mentions Annabelle in our various conversations, and for that, I'm very grateful. Somehow, I'm managing to keep a brave face and pretend that none of this bothers me, but deep down, I know that her behaviour has changed me. That pisses me off more than anything. I have always been self-reliant and self-sufficient and by letting my guard down and allowing feelings to blur the way I live, I've let myself be hurt. Well, no more.

"You two need to go up to your room and prepare yourselves for us, Edward, okay?" Katy says as Carlisle holds her hand and wraps his arm around her waist. "Carlisle… if you keep this up, our submissives will be sent to bed and I will take you upstairs and fuck your brains out," she says, smiling, "And you know that we have commitments to them, so behave. Okay?"

Carlisle chuckles as he kisses her on the cheek. "Off you go, meet us downstairs in the dungeon in half an hour. And make sure that you're hair free, both of you. Oh, and Milly, please ensure that your hair is tied up. I want free access to your lovely neck. Okay?"

I walk up the stairs slowly, dragging my feet as I tramp behind the tiny girl in front of me. Her hips don't sashay inside her jeans like Annabelle's used to. Instead, they seem so narrow that I'm not sure how they carry her bodyweight. Her jeans aren't tightly fitted like Anna's always were either, and they seem to hang off her narrow pelvis like workman's trousers.

Annabelle…

Fuck it all.

Shaking my head at my pathetic sentimentality, I follow her into our room and plonk down on my bed. The room has been returned to its previous state and the only sign that anything untoward had happened in here is a stain on the wooden flooring from where the rain had got in. Wilf has obviously worked his magic and even the wardrobe looks as good as new. There is a new, slightly larger, television, sitting on a wall bracket, out of harm's way and a replacement alarm clock, but other than that, everything looks exactly as it did before I had my tantrum.

Unpacking my meagre possessions, I try to make small talk with Milly as she gets ready in the bathroom, with the door firmly shut. If we're going to be playing together, there needs to be some sort of connection between us so I really do need to make an effort with her.

She responds so quietly to whatever I ask that I can hardly hear her and after about ten minutes, I give up and start undressing. After stripping down to my boxer shorts, I fold my clothes up and place them in one of the drawers. Opening the wardrobe, my heart sinks when I see what's hanging up inside. Katy has provided a leather thong for me to wear, and I sigh when I see that the strap at the back goes up between my bum cheeks.

They've decided that I can play tomorrow night, and that I have to wear her latest design. I can't wait… yeah… insert sarcasm here. But today, I can help to control the scene and as such, I can wear my civvies.

Milly is very pink and dripping wet, wrapped in two massive towels when she returns to the bedroom. She still doesn't make eye contact with me as she kneels on the bare wooden floor and rummages in her small suitcase on wheels.

Shrugging, I head off into the bathroom to get myself ready. I've tried to talk to her but she isn't interested so I don't bother again. I feel strangely excited as I shower and shave all over, wondering what I should choose for them to do to Milly. When I'd forgotten both who I was and what I should be doing, and had barked orders at Katy, I'd loved the feeling of strength and power that had washed over me. Will tonight be the same? And the fact that Milly is a total stranger, whom I know nothing about, makes the excitement crank up even higher. Exfoliating, I allow my imagination to run away as I mentally plan out having her hanging from the ceiling chains as Katy flogs her, and Carlisle holds a wand on her clit, forcing her to fight her impending orgasm.

The sound of a hairdryer drags me back to the here and now, and clambering out of the cubicle, I rub myself dry and start to dress.

I'm quite surprised at how lovely Milly looks when I leave the bathroom, wearing a simple outfit consisting of black jeans, a tightly fitted black t-shirt and my trainers. She's wearing a pale pink corset with matching stockings and stilettoes and now that she is undressed, she's not a skinny as I thought she was. In fact, she's more willowy than thin and has lovely breasts that the underwired lingerie has pushed up high.

Her hair is in a high plait and she has put on quite heavy make-up that accentuates both her lips and eyes. And actually, despite how frail and fragile she had seemed downstairs, she looks less delicate, and is instead, very arousing.

"Wow…" I say, looking her up and down. "You look amazing!"

She blushes and looks down, "Thank you, Edward," she says. "I was wondering something. About tonight? Um… do I call you _'Edward,'_ _'Mr Cullen_,' or _'Sir_,' if you're helping to plan the scene? I'm guessing we'll have to keep it formal?" she asks, frowning.

"I don't know," I answer, honestly as I fight to drag my eyes away from her uplifted tits. "That's a really good point, actually. Up here, just call me by my name, but downstairs, we will need to check with the Hales about what the protocol is for a sort of trainee switch. I guess when I'm in submissive mode, I should be called just 'Edward,' but if I'm helping them do a scene, I really don't know."

"Okay," she says, nodding, "Well then, _just_ _Edward_, let's get on with it, shall we?" she continues, quite forcibly. "I don't want to keep them waiting. And I don't want to wait much longer either. Is it me or are you procrastinating about this? Are you nervous?"

"Right …" I say, raising my eyebrows as she takes my hand and yanks me out of the room. "Lead the way … Milly …"

"Sorry if I sound bossy, but I'm rather excited, you see. I haven't been fucked since Wednesday night, and even then, I think that the Master was being a little bit too gentle with me. I wanted him to use a belt on me before he fucked my arse but he refused when I asked that he do it really hard and preferably without lube. I like pain and I love anal sex when I'm dry and unprepared. He said that it wasn't a good idea because it can cause damage so I had to let him do what he wanted to because, obviously, he's my owner and I have to abide by his bidding. But I would have liked more. When we discussed the scene afterwards, I told them that and they agreed to find some sort of compromise. I'm really pleased about that. And obviously, now you've been added to the equation, Edward, the level of desperation I'm feeling has increased, and I want them to let you decide how I cum," she says, grinning at me. "What do you think? Would you like that? I like hard fucking. I don't need, or want, to be treated gently. I like quite specific things and I hope you can deliver that too. I'm on a masturbation ban and I'm feeling a little bit desperate. Are you allowed to touch yourself? It's killing me. I usually make myself cum at least twice at night and once in the morning. My vibrators haven't been used in weeks! I'm really jealous that you've been collared by them. Do you think they'll keep me? I'll let them do anything they want to do to me, and I just hope that I please them enough so that they'll feel enough for me to want to collar me. Have you any suggestions on what I can do to please them more? Have you any ideas?"

Shit. Where did Miss Meek and Mild disappear to? I guess the saying is true. You should never judge a book by its cover!

"Come on, Edward!" she demands, as she gallops down the stairs in heels that I wouldn't have thought it possible to run in. "Jesus! Hurry up! I want to see if Carlisle will back down about fucking my backside without preparation tonight. I would really like him to do a mock rape scene but when I suggested that before, he didn't seem very keen. I wanted to be walking down the road, wearing a skirt that doesn't cover my body, high heels and with no knickers on, and for him to kidnap me. I then wanted him to bundle me into the boot of his car and to drag me down here and fuck me. He said maybe some other time."

"You do know that you shouldn't have anal sex without lube or prep, don't you, Milly?" I say, shocked. "You can get torn! The skin in your arse is really fragile! And he's a fucking doctor! If he got caught by the police, pretending to abduct you and rape you, he would be struck off!"

"Yes, I do know that, Edward," she says, sighing as if I'm some sort of an idiot. "I'm training to be a doctor and plan on specialising in gastroenterology so of course I know about the delicate tissues that line the anus! That doesn't stop me liking the burning sensation! Is your cock bigger than Carlisle's? If it is, I wonder if he'll let you fill me up? God I do hope so …"

Okay then …

"Right …" I say, almost running as she dashes down the steps to the basement.

"Do hurry up! My goodness, they led me to believe that you were super fit because of your love of sport, but I've yet to see it, Edward. You move very slowly! Now hurry up! I want to get fucked!"

The second we enter the darkened, candle lit room, Milly's entire demeanour changes. Letting go of my hand, she trots across the flag-stoned floor silently, despite her stiletto heels. Without saying a word, she drops to her knees next to the flogging bench on the hard, cold, unyielding floor and assumes the perfect submissive position. Locking her elbows, she clasps her hands behind her back, with her thighs widely spread and her head suitably lowered. Christ. So this is what a true submissive looks like? Well, I guess that John and Katy's assessment of me is quite right. I'm not submissive at all. She looks fluid and sinuous as she seems to barely breathe in the flickering, ambient glow. Annabelle looked lovely when she was submitting, but even she looked nothing like this.

"Well, well, well," Carlisle says from behind us. "Look at you, Milly? What a clever girl! I'm very proud of you. Look, Katy? She remembers every single thing you taught her about assuming the correct position. But then, I guess, being shocked with your violet wand had the desired effect, after all, what do you think, my dear?"

Chuckling, Katy walks to me, and pats my naked left arse cheek. "Hello, darling boy," she grins, leaning forwards as she kisses me on the tip of my nose. "She could certainly teach you a thing or two about obedience, don't you think?"

"Am I allowed to speak when I'm in here tonight, Mistress? Master? Milly and I were just wondering what she should call me … should she call me by my first name?" I ask, quietly.

"Of course you're allowed to speak in here! You're assisting with a scene in a trainee dominant or switch capacity this evening," Carlisle says, smiling at me before he leans in and kisses me on the mouth. "And Milly must call you _'Master Edward'_ tonight. Enjoy the power that goes hand in hand with the roll, my angel, but don't abuse your increased status. Remember that at all times, the submissive's needs and wants have to be addressed and you must ensure that you assess the situation every couple of minutes and make sure that she's okay with whatever is being done to her. Oh, baby … you don't know how much I've missed you …" he says, as he clutches my arse tightly and yanks me closer to him as he pushes his tongue between my open lips. Yanking my body closer, he rotates his pelvis, forcing our cocks to rub deliciously. "God … that feels …" he murmurs before he sucks my tongue and drops one of his hands to squeeze my balls.

"That will do, dear," Katy says, "be a good boy and leave him alone. I know you've missed him, and his oral skills, as have I, but you have to stop. Okay? Tonight you must focus entirely on how he conducts the scene as well as how Milly responds to being dominated by three of us. I know that John will be fascinated to know how Edward conducts himself when he has freedom over another."

Shit.

Clouds of butterfly-like nerves flutter up towards my throat as I look at Katy in horror. "I don't know if I can do this!" I start as I grip the edge of her pink, feather trimmed skirt and she smiles, crossing her Barbie pink, Doc Martin encased feet. I'd normally be fighting the urge to burst out laughing at her ludicrous outfit but even her terrible dress sense can't override the serious dose of the collywobbles that is making me want to vomit right now.

"Of course you can, love," Katy says, waving her hand in my direction. "You are the most aggressive submissive I've ever known, Edward. You struggle with every part of submission and you're a bossy little fucker to boot. I personally think that you'll take to dominance like a duck to water, if you'll forgive the pun. Now, Milly is forthright and knows exactly what she wants and how to get it when she isn't in the dungeon, but when she kneels before us, her submission is absolute."

"Okay …" I say, feeling utterly uncertain. "What do you want me to do?"

"No. Tonight, Edward," Carlisle says, as he strokes across my shoulder, barely touching me. "Tonight, you get to decide what I do to my little slut. You get to decide what I do, how I do it and what happens to her in the end."

"Slut?" I ask, opening my eyes wide in shock. "You call her a_ slut_?"

"Yes, of course I do. Milly is my filthy little slut, aren't you, girl?" he asks. She doesn't respond in anyway. "She likes to be verbally and physically abused and humiliated, Edward. So, before we begin, please read her list of limits that are on the shelf over there and join us in the flogging alcove in ten minutes. Okay?"

Slut? Shit. I've never called anyone a name before, other than a knob, arse or fucker. Can I really do this? I suddenly realise that the feeling of nerves is morphing into something more akin to excitement as I nod and walk across the room and study her list, whilst feeling nervous. Annabelle was a reasonably obedient submissive but she didn't do humiliation or abuse and I don't honestly know how I feel about participating in this type of scene.

Surprise once more washes over me as I read her likes and dislikes. Licking my index finger, I turn the pages and read, transfixed, and open mouthed, as I realise that Carlisle wasn't joking. I've never read anything like it. To be honest, there isn't anything she doesn't like and I raise my eyebrows when I see that she has emphasised that she wants to be bitten, beaten with a thick stick, spat on and verbally humiliated as often as possible. Her names of choice range from slut, whore and cunt. I'm even more surprised when I read that she prefers to be called by those names rather than by her given name.

Turning to look at her as Carlisle attaches chains to her leather bound wrists; I look at her in amazement. I would never have believed that she would crave such things. John is absolutely right when he says that I need to learn to read people better if I'm going to become a success at my chosen career. Returning to her lists, I shake my head in disbelief when I see that she likes to be objectified as a piece of furniture, urinated and defecated on, used as an oral ashtray and lavatory. She likes to be put in a corner and to have anyone passing cover her in their shit and piss, as well as to have them fill her mouth with whatever they choose. She has asked that instead of having cigarettes stubbed out on her naked breasts, she would prefer cigars. That's all pretty much a step too far for me.

I don't know what to do to her, or what I should even suggest to be done to her. Carlisle and Katy have amazing imaginations and seem to know instinctively what to do to a submissive but as I've never done anything like this before, I have no idea what happens next.

"Are you ready, Edward?" Katy asks, poking her head around the alcove and looking at me, interrupting my musings. "Milly is getting anxious here, I can tell by her demeanour that she's beginning to get tired of waiting, as is your Master. If you don't want to do this, tell me now so that Carlisle and I can get on with it."

Looking at Milly, I smile. She's dangling from the ceiling, her tip toes barely touching the floor. She's stretched out so far that her shoulders look as if they're dislocating.

"Sorry for the delay, my Mistress, but I was just thinking of what I'd like to do to your slut. If you'd be so kind, I'd like to keep you waiting a little longer. I'll be right back," I say, pursing my lips as an idea begins to take shape. "Untie her from the ceiling. She looks like she's enjoying that far too much and if she wants to suffer, then I want to torture her to see how far I can push her tonight." I say, feeling a surge of confidence as her eyes widen and she shakes her head. "Are you disobeying me, slut?" I ask. "Are you? If you shake your head at me again, then I will send you back to your room and make you go to sleep and I will stay down here and please our owners. Do you understand me?"

Reluctantly, Milly nods and pouts. "And if you continue sulking, girl," I say, "I will make sure that you don't get fucked all weekend. Okay? Respond!"

Milly closes her eyes, breathes deeply and nods. "Sorry."

"Sorry, MASTER!" I bark.

Her eyes open even more widely as she nods enthusiastically. "Sorry, Master Edward … Sir … I didn't mean to disrespect you."

"That's much better," I say, rolling my neck. "Now, I want you to strip her, apart from her stockings and shoes and tie her down onto the table please, Master Carlisle. Spread her out into a saltire shape and please ensure that she's stretched really tight. I want her to feel what you're going to do to her. I want it to hurt, just as she likes it to. But only if she's a good girl … if she doesn't behave herself, I want her sent back to the room and then to be punished via a total orgasm, and fucking ban, until a week today."

"Very good, Edward!" Katy says, chuckling, as she unshackles her new submissive.

Milly whimpers and I turn my head to look at her and grin at her wide eyes as I stride out of the room. Unexpected excitement crackles through my veins as I run up the stairs, three at a time and dash into the kitchen. I stand and look around the room, not really knowing what to do next.

"Okay … let's see … now … hmmm … what do I need?" I mutter to myself. "Um … she likes pain … extreme pain …" I continue, as I open a drawer next to the sink. Rummaging around, I find a wooden spoon, a shocking lime green, plastic spatula and a new dish cloth. I then wander into the utility room and scan Katy's colossal collection of crap. A bag, covered in bright yellow ducklings and embroidered bunches of daisies, catches my eye. I don't know why, but I open it and laugh out loud when I see the pegs that are topped with all sorts of birds. Grabbing it, I put the other accoutrements that I gathered in the kitchen inside it as I scan the room, trying to find something else to pique my imagination. I add a wire wool scouring pad and head back into the kitchen.

A large fruit bowl sits next to the sink and I choose a large, juicy feeling lemon and chuckle to myself when I see something else that triggers a distant memory.

Ginger.

I vaguely remember Riley threatening to shove a chunk of ginger up my arse once when I'd back-chatted him during one of our classes. He'd yanked my arm and dragged me into a store cupboard at the end of the lesson and punched my bicep painfully hard for being a prick in front of my classmates, before he told me that he was going to fig me if I acted like a smart arse again.

He never did, but I had researched what it meant and by all accounts, it burns like a fucker, so I was glad that I hadn't experienced it, but if Milly really likes pain, then why not?

Grinning, I shove the spice into my pocket, grab a paring knife, box of matches, a bright turquoise candle, small roll of ribbon, and a handful of rubber bands from Katy's bits and bobs drawer, and look around again. When no more inspiration hits, I have a glass of water and wash my face and hands as I attempt to centre myself. Closing my eyes, I take a couple of moments to breathe deeply and rolling my neck, I head back to the waiting dominants and submissive.

Carlisle and Katy are talking animatedly in a corner when I re-enter the room. They both turn to look at me, looking surprised when they see the bulging bag of items that I've chosen.

"Are you ready for this, Edward?" Katy asks, looking unsure as I lay my bootie out on the bench near the table, allowing Milly to see my wares. "You don't have to do this today if you aren't ready. You won't be in any kind of trouble. I wonder if we aren't behaving foolishly again and expecting too much from a barely trained submissive and someone who has never dominated before."

"Oh no, Mistress," I say, assertively, "I'm more than ready for this. In fact, I'm really looking forward to seeing if I can do it. Do I have your permission to touch and talk to the submissive? I know I'm not allowed to play with her, but am I permitted to touch her to prepare her for our Master?"

"Of course you can touch her, Edward," Carlisle says, "And you definitely need to talk to her to check that she's okay. In fact," he continues, "your Mistress and I were just discussing the possibility of all three of us dominating my new slut, with you and I fucking her as Katy flogs her. What do you think?"

Milly struggles in her restraints and nods her head in agreement as I smile at her. "Oh, Master," I say, walking closer to him, "I think that I like that idea very much. Double penetration feels wonderful … I wonder if she can take both of our cocks … neither of us are small … and you know that mine can certainly bring tears to someone's eyes if they aren't completely ready for me … she was asking about the size of my cock when we came downstairs earlier. I think I should definitely let her see it, don't you, Master?"

Carlisle grins at me and nods his head. "That," he says, stroking across my crotch, "is a masterpiece amongst cocks and yes, she definitely needs to see what she's in for when that monster is unleashed. His cock," he continues, as he turns to look at Milly, "is the biggest that I've ever seen and I can't take it up my arse easily. I bet even you'd struggle, girl …" he finishes.

Chuckling, I look at her lying before me. Carlisle and Katy have done exactly what I asked them to do. Milly is stretched so tightly on the table that her ligaments and tendons are bulging in their strain.

"Look at that pretty pussy …" I murmur, as I reach forward, seemingly to touch her. I allow my fingers to hover just above her body and then pull back.

Upon hearing my words, Milly arches her back slightly and as she struggles to move her legs, I can see exactly what our conversation is doing to her body. Her hairless pussy is slick with her arousal and she's swollen and puffy in anticipation of what is going to be done to her.

"Do you like what I've chosen to torture you with, Milly?" I ask. "Do you? Are you going to be a good little slut for your masters and mistress this evening?"

Milly looks at Carlisle and Katy and then back at me, seemingly confused. "Do I … do I have permission to speak, Master?" she asks, breathlessly. "May I respond to Master Edward?"

"Yes, you dirty little cunt, respond to your trainee master every time he tells you to respond to him this evening!" Carlisle snaps, loudly. "Do it now!"

"Sorry, Master," she says, relaxing in her restraints. "Master Edward, forgive me for not responding sooner, yes. Yes, I'm ready for whatever you are going to do to me. Please hurt me …" she pleads.

"Milly!" Carlisle snaps as his hand makes sharp, painful sounding contact with her left breast. "Don't beg unless I tell you to!"

A large, red hand mark appears on the delicate flesh of her breast and frowning, I look at Katy and although I should be shocked, my brain can't seem to get passed the way that she just called me 'Master.'

I liked the way that sounded …

"She likes it, Edward … I promise you, baby … look at her face … she's in rapture …"

Milly is lying, staring at me, panting. Her breasts are rising and falling and a delicious pink flush stretches from her cheeks all the way down her neck to her dark pink nipples.

"I hope you're ready for me, Milly …" I say, "because this isn't going to be gentle … I'm going to take all my frustrations out on your little body. And the only time I will stop is if you safe word … tell me your safe words … respond. Now."

"Um … ah …" she pants. "Red … red to stop. Yellow … yellow to slow down and … and discuss and green … green to add more to a scene … Master Edward …"

"Good girl …" I murmur as I trail my hand from her cleavage, and finish just above her pelvic bone. Leaning forwards, I take one of her nipples into my mouth and without any kind of careful, slow build-up, I suck firmly. As she groans, I suckle harder before I sink my teeth into the delicate tissue, causing Milly to arch up towards me, yelping as I move my teeth in a slicing action. Pulling my mouth away, and before she has a chance to realise what I'm doing, I quickly wrap one of the elastic bands around her distended flesh several times until it is so tight that her flesh bulges and instantly darkens. She inhales sharply as the blood flow is instantly impeded and she tries to pull back from me. Ignoring her response, I repeat my actions with her left nipple. I carefully tie the extra thin pieces of black satin ribbon around Milly's bullet sized, blood red nipples and form a jaunty bow. Stepping back, I put my head on the side as I look at my handiwork.

"Very nice, Edward," Carlisle says, as he strokes my cheek. "Very nice indeed."

Turning to look at him, I smile, "Thank you Master. Thank you, I think she looks very sweet and innocent, although, of course I know that she's an utter slut and that she loves what I'm doing to her," I finish, nodding. Shrugging Carlisle's hand off me, I walk forwards, and taking hold of the zester, I trail it in a light circle around the swell of her breasts and run it down her body. I stroke it up and down her outer pussy lips and tap her clitoris with it.

The gentle pressure means that it doesn't mark her skin and cause any damage, but it's cold and reasonably heavy and she quivers as I repeat my actions.

Placing it back on the shelf, I pick up a small box and walk back towards her, striking a match as I do so.

Milly's head twists at the sound so that she can see me and her eyes widen in alarm as I wave the small flame in her direction. The acrid, sulphur smell wafts around and, without saying a word, I light the bright blue candle and hold it still as I stare into Milly's eyes.

As the hot liquid pools, I step closer to her. "Are you ready for me, Milly?" I ask. "Respond."

She nods frantically and bits her bottom lip as she pants short breaths as excitement grips her. I smile at her desperation and stroke her chin lightly before I grip it firmly and yank her face upwards slightly. "No, you need to tell me your safe word. What is it? Respond."

"Green, Master Edward," she says, her voice sounding thick. "Green. Hurt me … please …"

"MILLY!" Carlisle barks, again. "What the fucking hell did I just tell you about begging?" he yells as his hand comes down on her exposed, spread, moist pussy.

Even I wince when I see the mark of his hand that immediately appears on her waxed flesh.

"Oh God … so good … green … green … Master …" she groans. That spank must have really smarted and yet her eyes look hooded and her mouth droops open in pleasure.

"You were told not to beg, weren't you, slut?" I ask, feeling a surge of adrenaline at the way that my words affect her. The second I called her a name, a ripple made her body shudder. "You were told not to beg and I don't remember asking you what your colour was. How dare you speak before you've been told to?" I ask, as I use my free hand to thwack her swollen left nipple. As she screeches, I stand and stare at her as she looks up at me, imploringly. Without saying a word, I quickly flick my wrist, forcing the molten wax to spray across her heaving breasts.

Milly screams and her fingers open and close as she tries to move her hands to cover herself and to stop the pain from the hot liquid. Ignoring her, I carefully use the rapidly melting wax to write 'SLUT' across her belly, below her navel and just above Carlisle's flame red handprint, as she quivers below me.

"Very good, Edward," Katy says, appreciatively. "That's wonderful handiwork, my dear. Where did you learn to do that?"

"Oh, I just used my imagination … I like this, Mistress … I really like this … thank you for allowing me to play in this way. You will have to think of a way that I can thank you …" I say, as Katy leans towards me and kisses me gently on the lips. The kiss lingers for so long that the wax spills over the top of the candle and spills all over my hand, and all over the submissives belly. And for the first time today, upon hearing Milly scream as Katy groans, my cock twitches. As Katy licks across my bottom lip, I can feel my erection swelling and begin to press against the buttons of my jeans.

"Now, now, you two," Carlisle says. "As you told me earlier, darling, we have a submissive to torture, behave yourselves. And," he continues, "you don't get a piece of our beautiful Edward, if I don't, Katy. Now be a good wifey and let go of our baby boy, I want to fuck his arse almost as much as I want to fuck you right now …" he finishes, as he spins me around and clamps his mouth to mine. We kiss frantically for a few moments and I groan as Katy's hands run up and down my body from behind, stroking and squeezing my cock and balls as they move.

Pulling back, I roll my neck, and turn my attention back to the desperate looking girl, strapped to the bed before me. She's panting as she watches us and is splattered with dry, cracking puddles of wax and her nipples look agonised in their bindings.

Blowing the candle out, I pour the residual wax over Milly's beribboned nipples and her sobbing begs almost make me stop as I stare at her wondering whether I've gone too far. Her poor nipples were already distended and painful looking and the wax must be in agony.

"Don't you dare cum, Milly! If you cum, I will beat you!" Katy suddenly barks out as Milly shudders and I watch in abject fascination as she manages to roll her hips a little bit as her pussy quivers.

"Have I hurt her?" I ask, not moving. "Is it too much for her to handle?"

"Of course not!" Katy says, squeezing my arm before she takes the extinguished candle from my hand. "Look at her! She's in heaven!"

Katy's right, of course. Milly looks as if she's on the verge of orgasming because of the pain I've meted out to her. Rivulets of sweat trickle down between her cleavage and the flush has now crept further down her body. She is shivering and her hands repeatedly jerk upwards. At the same time, she points her toes as she tries to force her pelvis up towards me and clenches her jaw in a bid to calm herself down.

"So," Carlisle says, as he turns to look at me, ignoring Milly's predicament. I hadn't noticed before, but he's naked and his erection is flat against his stomach as he smiles at me. "That was all very exciting to watch and just as Katy and I thought, you have the makings of a very good, inspirational and enthusiastic switch, at least. Now, tell me. What have you got planned for me to do to our little Milly next, Edward?"

'_At least'_ a switch? What does he mean by that? What else could I be?

"Edward?" Carlisle asks again, touching my chest gently, as he moves closer to me. "Are you okay? Is this too much for you? What do you want me to do now? Or do you want to stop?"

Milly thrashes about when Carlisle says that and shakes her head frantically.

"Behave, slut!" I bark out at her. She stops moving immediately and I turn to look at Carlisle. "No, Master Carlisle, I most definitely don't want to stop. I want to punish and torture this little cunt and see how far I can push her. "You like it when I call you that, don't you, slut?" I ask, staring at Milly.

She stares at me with wide eyes and is flushed and sweating, but she doesn't respond. "Good girl," I coo, as I stroke her damp hair. "Now, Master," I say, grinning. "firstly, you need to untie her and turn her onto her stomach and massage her anus. Make sure you do it firmly and when you feel her muscles begin to give, I want you to fuck her arse with your fingers. Just a little bit, obviously, I don't want you to make her cum. If she does cum, without permission, I'm going to take a cane from the rack and beat her so hard on the soles of her feet, she won't be able to walk tomorrow because of the bruising," I say, breathing heavily.

"I think you like this quite a lot, boy," Katy says, smiling as she ruffles my hair.

"Here," I continue, "Use this lube. It's extra thick and you'll need to make sure that she's really aroused, lubricated and stimulated for what I want you to do to her."

"How do you want me to massage her?" Carlisle asks as he begins untying one arm and wrist as Katy takes care of the other one.

"You need to ensure that her perineum is massaged deeply and that you can insert at least three fingers into her backside. Spread her legs apart as wide as you can so that you have easy access. The I want you to rub her crack, using tiny little circles to begin with. I want you to stimulate her to the point that she's going to safe word through desperation. I meant it when I said that I want to push her to the very edge of her limits. I take it that she can manage to accommodate your cock, Master Carlisle?"

"She can take my fist. Actually, she can take my hand, wrist and half my fore-arm, up her arse," Carlisle says, nonchalantly waving his clenched hand around as I drop the bottle of lube in surprise. "She loves me to fist her arse whilst I use a large dildo in her pussy. Despite being so small, she can handle things even bigger than your cock, as long as she's properly warmed up first."

"What? Are you kidding me?" I ask, shocked as Katy dips down and picks up the lubricant. As she does so, Milly mutters something, and all three of us snap our heads in her direction.

"Did the submissive just speak or make a sound without your express permission, Sir?" I ask. I smirk as she stares at me, looking horrified. "I think for that indiscretion," I continue, walking closer to her, "you should punish her severely."

"Do you now?" Katy says, patting me on my t-shirt covered shoulder. "What exactly do you have in mind, Edward?"

"When you've finished massaging her, I want you to pull her legs off the table, yank them apart and place her feet on the floor," I say. "Master Carlisle, sit on her face and order her to rim you whilst you massage her hole before you use this," I continue, waving the unpeeled piece of ginger in Milly's direction. She frowns, not knowing what I'm going to do with it. "Riley used to threaten to use ginger on me. It's called 'figging, slut," I explain to her, calmly. "And apparently it burns like a fucker, but he never used it on me because it makes your arse swell and he always liked to be able to use my hole to fuck whenever the mood took him, so he decided against it. That would put a stop to your anal urges for the rest of the weekend, now wouldn't it, girl?"

Milly looks utterly stunned at what I've just said to her as I pull the small knife out of the bag and languidly begin peeling the root. The strong smell permeates the entire space and Milly licks her lips in either nerves or anticipation as she watches me.

"Keep a large base on it," Carlisle says, smiling at me as he nods in appreciation. "We don't want that bad boy disappearing up inside of you, Milly," he laughs, "I'd have to don my surgeons gloves to remove that and I don't want to. I'm off duty and I think it might be a little bit embarrassing trying to explain to the registrar and A&E how that got up your bum, don't you? Especially as you work at St Thomas's hospital!"

Milly whimpers as Carlisle wraps his arms around her waist and yanks her up onto her knees. "Don't fucking move …" he growls as he grabs a handful of hair and yanks her head back forcefully before his other hand comes down and smacks her hard on her upper buttock.

She whines loudly and bucks against the edge of the table, parting her legs further as she clenches her backside.

"Stop doing that!" I say, "I know what she's fucking doing, Carlisle! She's trying to rub her clit on the edge to get herself off! Stop her!"

Carlisle yanks her hips away and she sticks her bottom lip out as he pushes the side of her face down onto the faux leather surface. Katy parts Milly's cheeks and Carlisle opens the bottle of sticky lube and trickles it along her crack. As she moans lightly, he begins to massage small circles on her flesh between her arsehole and pussy. As her body visibly relaxes and sweat beads on her brow, she licks her lips again.

Watching her face closely, one by one, Carlisle slides first one, then two, then three of his long, reasonably thick fingers, into her puckered flesh and starts to thrust and rotate them.

Milly arches and whimpers and I look, feeling quite alarmed at the way her backside is stretched to the point of tearing.

"Okay …" I say, suddenly feeling uncertain. "I … um …"

"Don't lose it now, Edward," Katy says, clapping me on my back. "Keep going. You're doing brilliantly. Look at her! She's loving it all!" she continues. Carlisle uses his other hand to massage her perineum again as he slips his pinkie into her bottom as well. She groans and opens her mouth wide at the way his digits stretch her. A trickle of saliva runs from the corner, all the way down her cheek, and disappears into her ear. She looks completely lost to the sensation as he pulls his fingers part of the way out, before he thrusts them all the way inside her again. He uses his thumb to massage the skin just above her anus as he finger fucks her. "Such a good little whore …" he murmurs. "Who is daddy's good little baby girl?"

Christ … I really wish he wouldn't call himself that.

"Okay … right … please remove your fingers, Master Carlisle," I say, stumbling over his words. "Insert this into her backside and leave it in place. Don't remove it unless she safe words."

Doing as I ask, Carlisle pulls his fingers out of her body, leaving her backside gaping slightly. I've only ever seen that happen after I'd fucked Riley's arse. It's an amazing thing to see, the way the human body can ping back into shape after being pulled open like that. Before her muscles can react to the emptiness, and after wiping his fingers with an anti-bacterial cloth, he slowly inserts the long, slender piece of ginger into her body.

Once it's buried up to the flared base in her backside, he pushes her cheeks firmly together and begins to massage the muscles, digging his fingers in deeply.

She sighs and smiles as she seems to relax at the sensation. I hadn't expected her to like it and my heart sinks, feeling like I've failed. All of a sudden, her eyes fly open and her mouth forms an "O" shape as the ginger works its magic.

"Can you feel the burn, baby? Does it hurt? I do hope so … you wanted pain … so you're getting pain…" Carlisle mutters. Then, without saying a word, he grabs her upper arms, digging his fingers deeply into her flesh before he turns her around. Picking her up, he shoves her onto the table, on her back once more, and slaps her upper thigh. "What next, Edward?"

"I'm going to touch her now …" I say, walking closer after I've tucked a handful of pegs into my jeans pocket. "Spread her legs … both of you. Take one leg each, stretch her to the point of pain and please make sure that you hold her tightly. I don't want her moving."

As Carlisle does this, I drop to my knees and take a long, slow lick of her sopping wet pussy. She tastes nice, quite sweet really, and not musky at all. As she shudders, I latch onto her clit and start sucking firmly as I pinch her labia.

"Holeeeee fuck!" she screeches as I quickly attach a peg to her outer lips. Pulling my mouth away from her, I lick her arousal off my lips as I make quick work of decorating her pussy with the bird topped pegs. I squeeze each one for added emphasis before I stand up and using one hand to pull her clitoral hood back; I tease her clit with my ginger coated fingers. As she gasps, I attach a blackbird topped peg to her exposed little nub before I top her nipples off with pegs as well. Squeezing the sides of her breasts with my fingers, I add a line of pegs all the way to her armpit on both sides and she winces as they pinch the delicate skin.

"Tell me, girl," I say. "What is your colour?" I demand, flicking the peg on her clitoris lightly. She jerks and squeaks but doesn't answer me. "Respond!" I yell.

"Um … green … Master … Edward …" she pants out. "Green … Master …"

Master … I like that. In fact, I really like that and could quite easily get used to the way that this level of power makes me feel.

Stepping back, I smile. "You look beautiful, Milly," I say. Sliding my fingers along the top of her stocking, I lightly stroke her naked skin. "In fact, you look good enough to eat …" I murmur. Without giving her any indication about what I'm going to do next, I shove three fingers up inside of her pussy and fuck her hard and fast, ensuring that I massage her g-spot repeatedly.

She gasps and pants, screwing her eyes up and clenching her jaw tightly, as she tries to control herself. "You do know that if you cum without permission, Milly," Katy says, as she swats the pegs attached to her nipples with the fronds of her rabbit hair flogger, "that you won't be allowed to play tomorrow night, or Wednesday … or even next Friday."

"That's right," Carlisle says. "Now, I want to cum. Stop everyone. Edward, stop finger fucking her and tell me what you want me to do now."

"May I suck your cock for a little while, please, Sir?" I ask, raising my eyebrow at him. "Just to get you ready for your submissive, you understand …"

Carlisle almost breaks a testicle in his speed to get to me. "Of course you can, can't he, Katy?" he asks, looking unsure.

"Yes, dear," she says, as she pinches the pegs on Milly's nipples again. "Just don't cum in his mouth, I want you to fill this one up," she says, before she yanks her arm back, and slaps the top of Milly's thigh really hard. A red handprint appears on her skin instantly and I swallow thickly. That must have really hurt. Katy has massive hands and they sting worse that a cane when she really lets rip.

"Get off the table, girl," I say. "Stand against it. No. Bend over the table and lie flat with your head on the side. Make sure that the pegs all dig in and watch me and our Master playing."

Milly shoots off the table at lightning speed and turns around. She lies exactly as I've told her to and moans as she does so. The pegs must hurt as they cut into her skin, but she smiles as she raises her hands above her head, ensuring that they dig all the way in.

She wasn't lying when she said that she enjoyed pain.

Dropping to my knees again, I assume my submissive position and wait for Carlisle to walk towards me.

"Oh, baby boy," he mutters, as he takes his cock in his hand and stands in front of me. "Lift your head and look up at me. You know what that does to me. Your eyes are so pretty …" he continues as I do as he has asked. Without saying anything else, he strokes the head across my lips.

I don't even bother commenting on the 'pretty' shit and instead, I gaze up at him from beneath my eyelashes and wait for his next command.

"Open your mouth and please your master in just the way I like. God I've missed you …" he says. Sliding his fingers into my hair, he drags my head forwards just as I open my mouth and let him inside.

Without warning, he shoves his swollen shaft all the way down my throat and as I clasp my hands behind my back, I have to fight the urge to gag and retch as his balls slap against my chin. I know what he's doing. He's showing me, and Milly, that he is still my dominant, however much I'm being allowed to lead the session and as such, I let him do what he needs to.

"Take it … take it all … boy …" he pants. "Swallow me … God yes … just like … oh … just like … that …" he mutters, as I suck my cheeks in and stroke my tongue along his shaft, in just the way that I like to have done to my own cock when someone is blowing me.

He uses my hair as leverage as he fucks my throat. He pumps in and out of me, hard and fast, and fighting the urge to pull away. Somehow, I force my breathing to settle so that I can inhale and exhale slowly through my nose. Somehow I manage to remain totally impassive as I suck my cheeks in firmly, milking his cock with every inward thrust.

After about five minutes, he pulls out of my mouth and staggers backwards, breathing heavily as he leans against the cold stone wall.

"Good thing you stopped, dear," Katy says, putting her knitting needles down on the shelf next to my equipment. "You were about to cum and you know what I said. I want you to cum inside our new submissive. She has been such a good girl that she deserves to have your jizz trickling out of one of her holes. Don't you think?"

"Fucking … fucking hell … your mouth … your fucking mouth … Edward …" he grumbles as he starts to palm his own cock.

Without saying anything, Carlisle grabs Milly's hair in both of his hands and yanks her head backwards. She squeaks in surprise as he kicks her feet apart. After lining his erection up with her opening, he plunges in and begins to fuck her hard and fast. She slides up and down the table with every thrust and I watch, fascinated, as the pegs pull and tug at her skin.

"I hope …" he pants. "I hope … hope that you … enjoyed the show … my Edward is a master when it comes to sex … Milly …" he explains. "He can fuck … fuck better than any other submissive … submissive that Katy or I have ever had …"

Milly whimpers at the way her body is slammed against the table, and the slapping sounds of sweaty flesh hitting sweat soaked skin is so arousing that I drop my hand to my own cock and start to stroke myself.

"No you don't, boy," Katy says, hitting my hand firmly with a cane. I squeak like a girl and raise my hands in the air to get them away from her. "You're here to see a scene through to its ending, not to get your rocks off. Stop right now!"

"Yes, Mistress, sorry, Mistress," I say, feeling my cheeks burn as I look at Carlisle.

"Okay, continue, Edward. Get on with it, it's getting late and your Master will be like a bear with a sore head, or rather a dominant with heavy balls, if he doesn't get to cum soon. Hurry up!" Katy says.

"Sorry," I say, as I walk around them and watch carefully. "Hmmm …" I muse.

"Like this?" Carlisle asks. "Are you happy with me fucking her like this?"

"No. No, actually, I'm not," I begin, "I want you to sit on her face and make her tongue fuck your arse, like I said earlier." Before I've even finished speaking, Carlisle begins nodding enthusiastically.

"God yes …" he says, and Milly whines in excitement as Carlisle straddles her head, facing the end of the table. "I love being rimmed … come on, girl," he instructs. "Lick and probe my arse with your tongue. Come on … I'm waiting …"

When Milly doesn't move, I slap her pussy and she jumps in surprise. "Get on with it, slut!" I demand. "Fuck your master's backside. Make it good and you'll be rewarded," I say. Immediately, he drops his head backwards as she obviously does as I've told her to do. Whilst he's preoccupied, I drizzle some lube onto Milly's hand and direct her fingers to his erection and wrap them around it. "Wank him. And make it good but don't make our master cum, Milly," I say, "Don't make him cum until he's buried inside your body. If you do, I'll beat you with my fucking belt and make sure that you're so bruised, you won't be able to sit down without feeling where I've been for at least a week!"

Milly lets out a muffled squeal but does as I have told her to as she strokes her fingers up and down his slickened shaft with one hand and grips his upper thigh with her other hand, steadying him. Carlisle begins to raise his pelvis up and down as he spreads his legs wider allowing her entry, and he grabs the pegs on the sides of her breasts and squeezes.

"Fuck … that's so fucking good …" Carlisle murmurs. "I could cum like this … wank me … baby … wank me harder … just like that … oh God … like that …" he says, as Milly's hand moves faster.

"If you do cum, pet," Katy says, sounding more Geordie than ever, "You'll be sleeping on the couch until next Friday. Do as the boy says. Hold back your orgasm, be a good boy."

Good boy? She calls her husband a good boy, does she? Blimey …

"Don't lose focus now, Edward," Katy says, as she starts rolling up a ball of wool.

"Sorry, Mistress," I say. "Okay, Milly, make sure you push your tongue as far up as you can, slut! Fuck him with it, in and out. In and out. Make it good!" I demand, as I smack her right breast really hard for no other reason than I want to. The shape of my hand appears instantly on her creamy skin and I wince at the sight as the pegs wobble backwards and forwards.

"Don't worry, Edward," Katy says. "She can handle it. I hit her far harder than that. She loves to be slapped around the face too. Here," she says, handing me a crop. "Hit her inner thighs … she adores a crop oh, and make sure that it really hurts …"

Taking the crop in my hands, I nod as I look at it before I roll it around in my fingers. I've held one of these before, obviously, but I've never hit anyone, equine or human with one and I'm not sure if I can do it and I know that I won't ever be able to slap a girl around the face.

"Here," Katy says, taking it from my suddenly sweaty hand. "Do it like this. Begin with little tapotement taps, and build up to percussion like slaps as the flesh turns a darker shade of pink. Once you've warmed our slut up, use it with sharp strikes and hit as close to her groin and pussy lips as you possibly can. Okay?"

Taking it back from her, I do as she has instructed. The little taps aren't hard enough to inflict any kind of pain but her blood rises to the surface quickly, flooding her delicate tissues and turning her skin a dark pink colour. I then swap to the harder hits. After a few minutes I look up at Katy and she smiles and nods.

"Well done, my boy," she says, proudly. "Continue."

Stepping slightly back, I raise the crop and bring it down on Milly's inner thigh with a loud 'thwack!'

She screeches and jerks on the table. She must have shoved her tongue further up into Carlisle's bum because he groans and grabs both her breasts in his splayed hands and digs his fingers into the pliant flesh.

"Was that too much?" I ask, looking at Katy, horrified that I've gone too far.

"Far from it!" Katy laughs. "She needs it much harder than that, but for now, that pressure will do. Carry on."

Frowning, I look at the red welt on her little body and inhale. "Come … come on, boy," Carlisle instructs. "Keep going!"

Nodding, I raise the crop and bring it down on her other leg with equal force. Once more, she bucks and yelps, but this time, I don't stop. This time I continue pulling my arm as far back as I can, and hitting her on the tender skin near her groin with all the force I can muster.

Several hits later, Milly is visibly quivering as I stand back, panting, so that I can check on how my submissive is. Well, on how THEIR submissive is, but right now, she feels like she belongs to me.

"Colour!" I demand.

"Grr … er … green …" she whimpers.

Turning my attention to her other leg once more, I repeat my actions and by the time this leg is ready for harder hits, I'm really into it. A red mist descends as I hit first one leg, then the other in a sweeping motion and am building up quite a breathless sweat by the time that Katy pulls the crop from my gripping fingers. Panting, I try to yank it back from her as the urge to beat her almost overwhelms me.

"That's quite enough, Edward," she says, scowling at me. "You have to learn control, and restraint, to become a good master, mistress or, even to be a trusted switch. Never lose focus like that again. Okay? You can inflict serious damage if you aren't watching your every hit carefully, and you should have been watching Milly's breathing as you couldn't see her face."

"Sorry, Mistress," I say, feeling like shit. "Master Carlisle, please step away from your submissive and let me check that she's okay."

Carlisle climbs off her, panting loudly. He's drenched in sweat, as am I, and as he steps away, Katy hands him a bottle of water that he drinks in several large gulps.

Milly is shaking on the table and covered in perspiration. Her inner thighs are covered in dark purple, red and violet coloured stripes from where I've been hitting her.

"Shit …" I moan. "Milly. Tell me your colour, please. I think I've been too hard on you. Are you okay?" I ask, as I sit her up and hold a small bottle to her lips and let her take small sips from it.

"Colour. Respond, please, girl," I say, feeling all my confidence slipping away.

"Oh my goodness …" she says, running her hand over her sweat covered forehead. "Um … my colour?" she continues, sounding confused. "Er … it's green. Very green. That was amazing … amazing … you're a fantastic dominant, Master Edward," she finishes, nodding her head before she empties her water bottle.

"That he is," Carlisle says, before he grabs Milly. "Katy and I knew he would be a perfect trainee dominant, and, in fact, he's giving your mistress and I a run for our money today," he says, sounding proud. Without saying another word, he drags her off the table once again and pushes her against it before he lines himself up. This isn't what I want. Not at all.

"No. No, Master Carlisle," I say, pursing my lips and shaking my head as I watch them closely. "Not like that, it won't be hard enough. Stop. I don't want you to fuck her like that. From behind, yes, but not like this. You need to really pull her arms, stretch her out and test her physical and mental limits. Hold her hands tightly and keep her arms locked in place." I order, as I walk slowly around the table. Oddly, none of this feels arousing to me; rather, it feels like I'm directing some sort of performance. Controlling and forcing them to follow my instructions feels wonderful. It's almost as if I can make my puppets do whatever I choose for them to do. And I like the power I feel. In fact, I really like the way I can control the entire situation.

"Okay," Carlisle says, as he shuffles closer to her.

"Pull her arms straight," I continue, "And now," I say, staring straight into Milly's beseeching eyes, "Fuck her. And do it HARD!"

Not needing to be told twice, Carlisle yanks her arms, pulling them into a rigid line and thrusts all the way into her pussy once again without giving her a chance to get used to the stretch. Immediately, he begins to thrust in and out, pulling his cock all the way out before he plunges back inside of her, banging her painfully hard against the table. In fact, he uses so much force that the peg attached to her clitoris flies off and lands on the floor.

Milly's eyes roll back in their sockets and her mouth droops as he increases his speed. She looks totally out of it as he uses her body to satisfy himself and as he holds both her hands with one of his, he wraps his free fingers tightly around her throat and squeezes, reducing her oxygen intake. This is one of her requirements. She loves to practice auto erotic asphyxiation. It's something that frightens the fuck out of me, but Carlisle doesn't seem to have an issue in giving her this.

Staring, unseeing and unblinking, ahead of her, Milly flops in his grip, just as Carlisle shudders and yells through his orgasm as he empties his balls into her body. He thrusts and jerks as he continues filling her up, and she still stares with her eyes fixed on nothing in particular, ahead of her, seeing nothing.

Looking down to where they're joined, I suddenly realise that they haven't used a condom and I frown as I turn to Katy. I wouldn't let anyone near my body, or enter another person's body, come to that, without that latex barrier and I'm surprised at them for doing this.

"I know what you're thinking, Edward," Katy says. She kisses her exhausted looking husband on the lips as he pulls out of Milly, shaking as he does so. His cum drips out of her twitching pussy and dribbles off his erection as I stare at it, "But we're not stupid, my dear. We've all been tested and we get tested every six weeks. Carlisle doesn't like the feeling of condoms, and neither do I so we ensure that we're all clean. You know that we never play with other subs and doms without condoms but we rarely use condoms with our submissives, in fact, only you and Anna have ever insisted on that."

Nodding, but feeling far from convinced at the safety of this, I turn Milly around and slide her back onto the table. My heart dropped like a stone at the mere mention of Anna's name and now I really don't want to continue. However lovely she looks, decorated with multi-coloured pegs, sweat and splatters of crumbling, dry candle wax, I don't want to fuck her.

"Clean … clean … clean me," Carlisle orders, clicking his fingers as he hobbles towards me, "and then use that perfect mouth of yours to make our new girl cum. Suck all my jizz out of her and then make her orgasm and clean her as well."

Doing as he says, I kneel in front of him before I slowly and gently lick his cock and balls. He whines as I suck his sensitive head into my mouth and swirl my tongue around it. As I trail my tongue backwards and forwards across his slit, I use my fingers to play with his arsehole. Instantly, his softened cock begins to harden and Katy chuckles.

"You're a little fucker, Cullen," she says, as she smacks me hard on the lower back with her cane. "Leave my husband alone and see to Milly now. I think you need to remove that ginger before you totally tenderise her anal muscles! Carlisle wants to double penetrate her tomorrow, not use her as part of a barbeque supper!"

Dammit. I'd forgotten about the ginger!

Shoving Milly's legs apart, I carefully pull the carved piece of root out from inside of her. She whines and shivers as I touch her perineum, and I don't know whether it's in pain or pleasure. Looking at her face, I still can't decide. Her features are screwed up as she bites her lower lip and squirms on the table.

Kneeling down in front of her, I lick from her lubed anus all the way up to her clit and back again. I hate the taste of lube but this is laced with pungeant, spicy ginger. As I trail the residue up and down with my tongue, she jerks and squirms against me. Spreading the ginger around her clit with my now tingling tongue, I then thrust it up inside of her, gathering Carlisle's rapidly cooling jizz. Cold cum isn't my favourite thing. In fact, the cold, clammy, wall-paper paste-like substance usually turns my stomach. I swallow it, obviously, but I don't like it when it's cold. I haven't told them that because I vaguely remember Annabelle telling me that they made her drink an entire glass full of collected jizz from a party as a punishment once. They'd even put it in the fridge so that it was gloopy and icy cold. She said she'd puked after every mouthful but that Katy had made her swallow it all down. So I'm relieved that Carlisle's emissions are still warm from being buried inside her hot little body and that it tastes pleasant because of the spice.

I thrust my tongue up inside of her again and use my nose to bump her clit as I slide a finger inside her swollen backside and press firmly against the thin wall. She jerks and squeals as she slithers about on the pleather surface.

"You may cum at will, Milly," Katy says, as she uses a crop to hit the pegs on her nipples firmly. The pegs on her external lips rub uncomfortably against my chin and cheeks but I don't miss a beat, and as I push three fingers into her arse, she screams loudly. Looking up, I wince as I see Katy ripping the pegs off her left breast and nipple without undoing them. Poor Milly's skin is dark red and I just know that she's going to be very bruised in the morning. I don't have time to be concerned though because just as Katy yanks the peg off her other nipple, she jerks upwards violently, bashing her pussy against my teeth as she cums. She squirts into my mouth and all over my face as she does so.

"Good boy, Edward!" Carlisle says, stroking my hair. "She has always wanted to squirt but has never managed to before. Clever you!"

When Milly comes down from her orgasmic high, she's shaking like a leaf and her teeth are chattering loudly. I gently remove the rest of the pegs and manage to remove the bands from her nipples, despite the fact that her flesh is so swollen.

"Okay, boy," Carlisle says, "you're in charge of Milly's after care. Take her up to your room, I think, actually, you should carry her. Massage her before you shower her, dress her and put her to bed with two painkillers and a bottle of water. Off you go."

I do as he tells me and lift the exhausted, naked, sweat soaked submissive into my arms and cradle her damp body against my cotton covered chest. My t-shirt is covered in dark sweat stained patches and I need a shower almost as much as she does. The climb up the steep stairs is a little bit hair rising, because I'm shattered, but I manage, somehow.

Milly stares at me without speaking as I lay her on a large towel on the floor of our room, and begin to massage her slowly. Her skin is red and puckered and she still has a faint trace of the writing above her pubic bone from the hot wax. Once or twice, her face screws up as I pull and rotate her joints, releasing the built up lactic acid as I do so. I smooth thick arnica cream all over her to soothe her aches and impending bruises.

She seems unsteady as I lead her to the shower and I worry if I've been too hard on her because she is, after all, a tiny, delicate looking girl and I certainly didn't hold back on her.

"Are you okay?" I ask, warily as I unplait her hair.

She nods and yawns loudly. "I'm fine."

"Was it okay?" I ask, feeling genuinely nervous about what her response will be. "Was the ginger too much?"

"It was amazing, Edward. I loved the ginger. It burned like a fucker but it was absolutely brilliant! Where on earth did you learn to do that? I've never heard of figging before but now that I have, I will add that to my list of requirements! Can you use horseradish instead of ginger? I wonder if that would hurt more because it's strong and pungeant? Hmmm … I'll have to do some research about that I think … Oh and when you went down on me afterwards, and the ginger was all over my pussy, it tingled and just highlighted things. Carlisle is quite right. You really do have a quite remarkable oral repertoire."

Blimey.

"It's very obvious that you've been well trained, Edward. Were you trained before you came to the master and mistress? Do you rim? I really love being rimmed and obviously, rimming others. Getting our Master to sit on my face was a tour de force! I loved that. I've never done that to him before. It's a pity that the mistress doesn't fuck or get fucked by girls. I would have loved to have eaten her out, but hey ho. They've promised to let any dominatrix who wants to fuck me, do as they like to me, at their next party. My one complaint is that you and Carlisle didn't double penetrate me. I really want you to do that. Will you fuck my arse tomorrow? Anal sex is my favourite thing in the whole world."

"Milly," I say, "My cock is bigger than Carlisle's; I doubt that you'd be able to handle it in your arse. Really. I'm not being big headed or anything like that, but it will be too much for your bum or throat, I promise you. And now that I've used the ginger on you, I doubt you'll get anything up there tomorrow."

As she steps under the hot water, she turns to look at me. She looks knackered and her poor skin is very marked. "Come on, show me. I want to see this monster cock that you say you have. I doubt you'll be too big for me, Edward," she says, shrugging. "I've been showing cucumbers up my arse and down my throat since I was fourteen, but I'm interested to see what you hide in there…"

"Okay," I say, smiling, "but you can't touch it. We haven't been given permission to fuck today. We could have dp'd but only during the scene and to be honest, I didn't want to go down that route yet. I think if we'd started that, the scene would have ended and I would have just let go and cum inside you. I didn't want that. I don't think it's a good idea for me to get undressed right now, Milly, I really don't. I haven't cum yet, remember?"

"I promise I'll somehow manage to resist you, Edward," she says, grinning at me.

I think that I might just like Milly afterall.

Unbuttoning my jeans, I yank both them, and my boxer shorts down around my knees as she gasps. My erection flies out, almost hurting itself as it slams against my t-shirt.

"Holy fuck!" she says. "You weren't kidding! How fucking big is that thing? Shit … that's fucking amazing … I want it inside me … have you measured it? How big is it?"

"Big enough," I say, as she leans forwards and before I can stop her, she swipes her finger over my wet slit and pops it into her mouth.

"What did I tell you!" I say to her, angrily. "You aren't meant to touch me without permission!"

"I barely did," she says, laughing, "And if you get to taste me, then I am allowed to see what I'm going to be drinking soon, aren't I?"

"I guess so …" I grumble.

"Hmm … you taste lovely … are you sure that you don't want to cum in my mouth? I could do with some protein, I burned a helluva lot of calories just now!" she laughs. "I could go downstairs and ask Katy's permission?"

After I've dressed her in her swan sleep suit and make sure that I give her two painkillers and some water, I tidy up the bedroom and bathroom, turn the light off and head back downstairs to clean the dungeon.

Carlisle and Katy have left the lights on and it takes me about an hour to tidy, clean and sanitise the room and equipment. When I turn the lights off, Carlisle calls to me. I enter their living room and we sit for an hour discussing the scene, and they tell me that they loved my imagination and inventiveness. They asked me how I felt, and shared what they thought and then they wanted to know what else I would like to try as we munched our way through some healthy sliced vegetables and dips.

When they dismiss me and send me to my room, I'm buzzing with excitement. Despite the fact that I haven't cum, I don't care. The planning, drama and power of the evening has been the most erotic and stimulating thing I've ever taken part in and although I am tied to them as a submissive, I realise now that I'm not a switch and I'm most certainly not a submissive. No. I now know, as John had said, that I'm a dominant.

….

The next day is great fun. Milly and I do indeed seem to have sort of connection after all. She isn't Annabelle, and to be honest, I will never allow myself to get involved on a friendship level like that again, but she's nice and almost as insatiable as I am. We spend the morning cooking and cleaning for our master and mistress as I'm back in submissive mode, and she doesn't moan or grumble in the way that Jasmine did, she just knuckles down and gets on with it. When we're done, we clean ourselves up before we head down to the dungeon. She loves me in my leather thong, lace up sandals and gold amulets and struggles to keep her hands off me. As we walk down the stairs, she strokes my arse cheeks and cups my balls repeatedly.

"Christ …" she mutters. "I really hope that I'm allowed to teabag you. Next to anal sex, and having my tits fucked, I loved sucking balls most of all!" she giggles.

She really is as bad as I am!

The four of us fuck in every position possible and at one point, Katy is sitting on my head whilst Carlisle is buried in my arse and Milly is impaled on my cock. We've done this before, of course, but the dynamics are now very different and Carlisle bites, pinches and scratches Milly as she bounces up and down on me. Without saying a word, she lifts her pussy off of me before she sinks her arse down onto my cock, using only her arousal that has coated my condom, to lubricate my cock. Katy climbs off after she's cum and stands watching the three of us fucking.

"I knew she could take you …" she says, breathlessly. "She has remarkably relaxed anal muscles, doesn't she?"

I watch Milly carefully as her face contorts and twists in pain as I repeatedly stretch her, but she doesn't stop moving. She just slowly pushes downwards and when I'm buried all the way inside of her, she starts to fuck me rapidly.

After we've all cum, and Katy and Carlisle head back up to their rooms to get showered, Milly and I chat amicably as we clean up the dungeon.

After our master and mistress shower us and administer aftercare, we spend the evening eating and chatting amicably.

The next day, we both spend the morning studying before we have a very quick session where Carlisle fucks my arse and I make Milly cum with a chin strap dildo.

After lunch, we get packed, and prepare to leave. Neither of us passes our phone numbers, email addresses or home addresses on to the other, and frankly, I like that she's all about business, and not emotion. I don't think I could handle that. She doesn't ask about her predecessors, and I don't tell her anything about Anna. We part happily, hugging tightly, saying that we will see one another again in two weeks' time. She is training at St Thomas's hospital, in Southwark, and at times her shifts will prevent her from being available. So sometimes it will be just Carlisle, Katy and I, and I quite like that idea.

I spend a few hours at my flat, sorting through a few of my mother's possessions. I decide to have some of her handwritten sheet music framed and to use it to decorate the music room at the Highgate House, and take it with me back to Uni. After I drive back to Cambridge on Sunday evening, I'm utterly shagged and crawl into bed without knocking to see how Clarissa is, or even unpacking my bits and bobs.

The next week passes quickly. I'm flat out with essays, lectures, study, gym, rowing as well as trips to the library. And other than one curry and a torturous evening watching Clarissa and Ali getting booed off the stage in a club just outside of Cambridge, I do nothing but work, sleep and occasionally eat. I manage to keep the Black Widow at arms-length as well, because I really don't have the time for her right now.

This becomes the pattern of my life. I'm so busy with trying to balance every individual faction of my life so that nothing is neglected that there is no time for anything new. My workload seems to increase every single day. So, I'm very relieved that I had my eyes tested because I hardly ever seem to lift my head out of a book or away from the computer screen now. I eat as I work and other than travelling to the supermarket once a week to stock up on supplies, I rarely ever find my path crossing with Clarissa's either. She has thrown herself into participating in Cambridge's theatre group, Footlights, with gusto and Ali follows her around like a love struck puppy.

Every day blurs into the next as essays and trial arguments in lectures, as well as the increasingly heavy gym and water schedule for my rowing team, consume my every waking thought.

Thursday is a particularly difficult day. I have so much work to hand in by the following Monday that I have to get it done before I return to London for the weekend. I've taken to throwing myself into my college work with such gusto that I don't even shower twice every day as I usually do, or even cook for myself. I'm utterly knackered and my stomach rumbles loudly, having had nothing but salt and vinegar crisps stuffed into it at lunch time today. Just as I lose myself totally in my final essay, the phone rings, breaking my concentration.

"Fuck it all …" I grumble as I snatch the handset from its cradle and look at the clock. It's after midnight! Who in the name of fuck rings at this time of night?

"Yes, who is it and what do you bloody well want?" I snap. "It had better be fucking well important. You know, like life and sodding death or there will be hell to pay because I'm trying to fucking well work here!"

"Edward?" a familiar voice enquires, "Are you alright? What's the matter? Is something the matter or are you just practicing at being a knob for when you qualify as a lawyer, so that once you know how to shaft every fucker in town this cold voice will make it easier?" the voice asks, laughing.

"What? Are you being fucking serious? Who the fuck is this?" I demand.

"Edward, man! It's me, man, Jasper. I'm sorry I haven't been around. Um … I was wondering if you'd like to meet up for a drink this weekend? Are you in town?"

"Jasper? Fucking hell, mate! Talk about the voice from the void! Where in the name of fuck have you been? It's been over two months since I last saw you! Is everything okay? I left you dozens of messages, texts and emails and you never once came back to me. Is everything alright?

"Yeah … sorry … sorry about that. I've been touring and … um … well … can we meet up for a drink somewhere? I miss you and I think we need to talk …"

"Yes, of course. I'm meant to be going to a rowing club dinner on Saturday night, but I've already blown them off because I'm watching England play Wales in one of the Six Nations at Twickenham. So, shall we say Saturday? In the Barmy Arms? After the game?" I say, smiling as I chew the end of my pen. I don't mention that I shall be indulging in another ad hoc domination session with a certain randy submissive, not to mention my dominant and dominatrix on both Friday night and all day Sunday.

"Great," he says, sounding resigned and as if my choice is far from ideal. "I'll be there at five. Hope you're still standing up. I know what you're like after a match, Edward, and I really need you sober so that we can catch up properly. There are things that I want to discuss with you."

"Well, I'm almost entirely teetotal these days," I explain, "I have to be, because of my rowing."

"Oh, right. Are you still doing that? I didn't think you'd keep it up, what with being with the Hale's and at university," he says, sounding odd.

"Yes, I'm doing pretty well. They've moved me up to the second team now, if I keep on like this, I'll end up in the Goldie boat by the end of my third year," I say. I don't add that I hope to be in studying in France in the not-too-distant future.

"Oh, that's good," he says, sounding disinterested. Jasper was never interested in any sport and pretty much only ever showed any kind of enthusiasm when music was mentioned. "Well, I'll see you then, man," he says, sounding as if he's not really paying attention to what I've been saying. And he hangs up before I can say anything else.

Scowling, I put the phone down and stare at the handset for ages. Part of me is thrilled that he has contacted me at last, but another part of me, the resentful, unforgiving part that is all _'Cullen,_' is angry that he waited so long to be in touch again. I feel angry that he's given me little in the way of an explanation. And of course, there's still no sign of Annabelle.

I finish my essay and just as I'm about to climb into bed, a knock on the door startles me. My week ends in a frenetic blur of sex with both my own hand and down Henrietta's more than willing throat. She's been a little less demanding over the last few weeks because she's preparing for exams, thank God. When I returned to Cambridge after Christmas, she'd been like something unhinged. She loved the erotic pictures I'd taken of her over New Year, and wanted us to move on to 'home movies.' Once more, knowing what my future was going to hold, I refused this, obviously, but I did film her as she masturbated. She loved that and it was odd, watching them back, to see that every inch of Henrietta is photogenic. She fucked me into oblivion for the first week, and I had to tell her to cool it for a bit because she was killing me.

Tonight is no different. After I've cum in her mouth, she manhandles my balls until my cock is hard again and rides me like she's some sort of depraved jockey as she tugs my hair and scratches my shoulders. Despite the fact that its three o'clock in the morning, as soon as she cums, she starts all over again. In all honesty, much as I still like the attention and of course, I love sex, it's all getting a little bit tedious. Although, I have to be honest, she is pretty good at letting me tie her up and put her into weird scenarios as I practice scenes to try out on Milly, I'm physically shagged right now and need a bit of a break.

…

Before I know it, I'm sitting in the stands at Twickenham, shivering, as I watch England trounce the Welsh on their way to, hopefully, winning the Grand Slam as I drink a pint of Guinness. It wouldn't be a match if I didn't have at least one pint. Rory and Devlin, two of my old classmates, got me a ticket, and the three of us sit together, yelling our heads off as England scores try after try and the men in red's heads dip in dejection. The two chaps stuff their faces with Twickenham's legendary steak and ale pies, with mountains of chips and tomato ketchup on the side, whilst I look on longingly. We now have to follow quite a strict diet regimen and when I told Katy and Carlisle this, they encompassed this in with my submissive duties and woe betides me if I cook something that isn't on my dietary list.

Katy spanks me with relish and far too much enjoyment to be healthy if I break what she has now deemed to be a new part of my list. If she found out that I'd been pigging out on crisps, she would flog my arse, and as such, I just have to make sure that I behave myself most of the time! So, sitting wearing my England jersey and a pair of jeans, with a scarf tied tightly around my neck, as they guzzle thousands of calories, I eat a bagful of crudité as I freeze my nuts off as the north wind bites into us all. My puffa jacket is stuffed beneath my seat because I wouldn't dare cover the English rose in case it brings bad luck on my team.

Rory is so pissed that he can barely speak, let alone stand, so Devlin drags him onto the over-crowded train. Laughing at the ridiculous drunken state they are both in as they stagger along the platform, I wave them goodbye as I head towards the pub to meet Jasper.

I'm early and I'm surprised that after I've grabbed a pint of orange juice and head towards the fire, Jasper is already sitting beside it. He doesn't notice me at first, and I wonder why he looks so pensive, as he sips his usual Jack Daniels and ice from a small, stubby glass.

Pulling my black beanie from my head, I run my fingers through my hair and walk towards him, feeling surprisingly nervous. This is supposed to be my best friend, for fuck's sake. How the hell can I be scared about meeting up with him? It doesn't make sense, but as he lifts his eyes to mine, my stomach sinks and the sense of impending dread deepens. He smiles at me as he stands up but the smile doesn't reach his eyes as his leans forwards and clasps my hand in his.

"Good to see you, dude," he says, in his new mock 'n roll parlance. I think it sounds ridiculous, but I'm not a part of that world and compared to him, I guess I'm a bit of a stuffed shirt, so hell, what do I know?

"Hey, Jazz," I say, quietly, "It's good to see you too, man."

"Blimey, Edward!" he says, looking slightly shocked as he grabs my upper arm. Shrugging him off, I slip my jacket from my arms. "What the hell have you been doing to yourself? You've got quite a body going on there now! Fuck! I should take up rowing!"

"No, you shouldn't," I say, plonking down next to the fire, I undo my scarf and start rubbing my icy cold hands together. "You don't need my physique to play in a band. It's fucking hard work and I spend a lot of the time with supports and ice packs strapped to my biceps and quadriceps. My neck and shoulders hurt all the time from all the pulling on the oars, and I promise you, it isn't for the faint of heart."

Nodding, he sips his drink and stares at me over the top of his glass before he swirls the rich coloured liquid round several times.

"Okay, so how have you been?" I ask, trying to keep my voice even. I fail. My throat tightens up instantly and makes my vocal chords release a thin, reedy, needy sound.

Bollocks.

"I've been okay," he says, sounding unconvincing. "Busy, you know how it is, dude."

"No, not really, Jasper," I say, as anger flashes around my body like fire. "I don't really know _how _it is! I have a massive workload, a busy social life, as well as training hard and am overseeing the renovations of my house, but I still find the time for friends, Jasper. So no. To be honest with you, I don't know how it fucking well is!"

"Shit, dude … say it as you see it, why don't you, Edward?" Jasper says, sighing. "You didn't always have such a pole stuck up your arse, did you?"

"Well, what the fuck do you expect me to say to you?" I ask, angrily. "We spent, what I thought, was a decent Christmas day together and then you disappear and I haven't heard from you for well over two months. I know you didn't like Annabelle, and I'm sorry if bringing her to your aunt and uncle's house ruined Christmas for you, but like me, her family are crap and she needed me. So, yes, I'm pissed off with you, Jazz. I truly am. In fact, I briefly considered not even bothering coming to meet you tonight. I don't really see the point. Not if you can't put any level of effort into our friendship. So yeah, I think it's safe to say that I'm really not happy with you."

"Have you quite finished ranting, Edward?" Jasper says, sighing as he runs both hands through his dishevelled hair. "Have you?"

"No, far from it!" I say, slamming my glass down on the table. Jim Beam would have made far more of a statement than a half empty pint glass of freshly squeezed orange juice does, but still, I've made my point.

"Um … Edward …" Jasper begins as a hand touches my arm. "Before you tear me another arsehole, can we stop for a minute? I've brought someone with me. I hope you don't mind, but I think we owe you an explanation …"

The look on his face makes me frown as a bead of sweat trickles from his hairline. Something is obviously wrong. Yes, I think it's safe to say that something is very wrong and my heart pounds in my chest as I stare at him as I pick my glass up again with shaking fingers. An icy chill begins to trickle through my veins as I look at his pale face, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the Arctic like temperature outside.

"What do you mean?" I ask and as the hand clutches my rugby jersey more firmly, I spin around before I gasp in shock and drop my glass of orange juice, splattering everyone within spitting distance with pith, juice, ice and glass.

"Hello, Eddie…"

…

**Duh duh duuuuuh!**

**I'm pretty sure you've all guessed who he's brought with him and by God he's right, they certainly DO owe him an explanation, don't you agree?**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was, as I said at the beginning, a bitch to write and I don't really know why! I haven't ever trained as a dominatrix so I had to do a lot of research into how it would feel and whether someone would instantly be able to control the way that they meted out impact play. I worked really hard on this so I hope you like it!**


End file.
